God pities kindergarten children,
And school children he pities less.
Grownups he pities not at all.
He drops them by the wayside,
And sometimes they have to crawl on all fours
In the scorching sand
To reach the first aid station,
Sweating blood.

Still,
He may have some pity to spare for true lovers
He caresses them
Tenderly extends his merciful shade over them
Like a tree offers its branches
To shed over the homeless man
Who sleeps in the public park

Perhaps we too can all reach into ourselves
For the last few coins of mercy
Left us by mother.

Maybe their happiness will protect us
Today and for the rest of time

Yehuda Amichai

(Translation: Noga)