The above image is a ceramic plaque that we purchased years ago from a gallery in Suffolk. The quotation, I discovered, is only a part of the original (by Yehuda Amichai, an Israeli poet)
Not the peace of a cease-fire
not even the vision of the wolf and the lamb,
as in the heart when the excitement is over
and you can talk only about a great weariness.
I know that I know how to kill, that makes me an adult.
And my son plays with a toy gun that knows
how to open and close its eyes and say Mama.
without the big noise of beating swords into ploughshares,
the thud of the heavy rubber stamp: let it be
light, floating, like lazy white foam.
A little rest for the wounds; who speaks of healing?
(And the howl of the orphans is passed from one generation
to the next, as in a relay race:
suddenly, because the field