I thought about selling.

I thought of selling my poem

And betraying all the promises

And letting spring come after me

Because I will break all the promises

Stealing from him the moment of the anthem

And singing like a generous bird

In my land and striving to restore

The steadfastness of every being

And coloring all my squares with the glories of my ancestors

And freeing myself and the spirit of my martyr

From all the shackles and restrictions

Because I left a long time ago

I will erase my identity and aspire to immortality

Because I am happy now

I will destroy all the soldiers around me

And return my land to my ancestors

I am not afraid of the return of my sadness

Because it is a memory of mine and those are the contracts

So I will sell the poem and re-seal it

The life of that newborn child

Because it is my hope to ascend

To the heights of the sky

To meet those thunders

No more escalation

For the day of terror is coming, O Jews

So beware, for turning away will not benefit you

Who buys my poem in The counterpart

And gives me the key to liberating the land of the ancestors?