What he wanted was

to hide among the simple

or among the small

whose greatness

he had always craved.

To be at rest with friends

cloaked in the pride of the meek without words,

and without even a eulogy.

And after that, only this:

To lie below tender shoots

sheltered in the shade of thorns

and to hear nothing

but Blackbirds singing.

* Translated from the Hebrew by Alan Sacks.