A Collection of Poems for October 7
“There are no words”
The phrase “there are no words” is often used to describe the events of October 7th. It has been a year since that tragic day, which has profoundly impacted many aspects of life for Israelis and Jewish communities around the world. From personal grief and loss to changes in daily routines and societal shifts, the effects have been widespread and deep.
We have tried to find the right words to express our feelings and experiences since then. This collection of Israeli poetry, written after October 7th, offers a glimpse into these varied impacts. Each poem captures different facets of the experience—whether it’s personal sorrow, collective resilience, or reflections on change—often drawing on themes from Jewish tradition, scripture, and historical experiences. Through these diverse voices, we hope these poems will help us reflect, mourn and process the complex emotions and realities we have faced.
Yizkor Rabbi Binyamin Holtzman
Yizkor Elohim et haneshamot hatehorot shel chalalay tevach simchat torah taf-shinpeh-daled (Tashpad). Et hanirtzachim ve’hanirtzachot, anashim nashim zkenim va’taf, uvahem gam hazar ve’hatoshav, bakibutzim, bamoshavim uva’arim, babatim, bamesiba uvadrachim.
Et amitzay halev, ezrachim ve’chayalim, shenecheletzu lehaganat hayeshuvim. Et lochamay kitot haconenut umutzavay hagader, et lochamay hamishtara vekochot habitachom, ve’et anshay kochot hachilutz vehahatzalah.
Yizkoy Israel, ve’ye’eval al chochmat hazkenim, al ahavat hahorim, al ziv ha’alumim ve’al temimout ha’yeladim. Zechor lanu akedatam veta’amod lanu velechol Israel zechotam, eretz al techasi damam. Yanucho beshalom al mishkevotam. Venumar Amen.
May God remember the pure souls of the victims of the Simchat Torah massacre of 5784. The murdered men and women, the elderly and children, including the stranger and the resident, in the kibbutzim, the moshavim, and the cities, in the homes, at the festival, and on the roads.
The brave-hearted civilians and soldiers who rushed to defend the towns. The emergency squad fighters and those posted on the fences, the police officers and security forces, and the members of the rescue teams.
May Israel remember and mourn the wisdom of the elders, the love of the parents, the radiance of the youth, and the innocence of the children. Remember their sacrifice and let their merit stand for us and for all of Israel. O’land, do not cover their blood. May they rest in peace in their final resting places. And let us say Amen.
When I’m drowning
Tali Versano Eisman
When I’m drowning I don’t need you to describe the water to me,
Not its color, not its depth, After all, I feel them up to my neck.
I have only one request, Do not stop for a moment describing for me
How looks
The dry land
For Weeks I Bleed Songs
Iris Eliah Cohen
I call the file “Grief” Delete
Call it “October” Change to “Shivah” Switch to “Abyss” Change: “Depths” Call it “As the Netherworld” Call it “Hope”
Instruct the computer to remember It answers me “Save Hope”
Mom is always right
Itay Lev
Mom said that when I grew up there would be no army.
Mom was right.
I haven’t yet grown up and already there was no army.
It wasn’t there when I heard the screaming outside.
It wasn’t there when I saw dad so scared and stressed.
It wasn’t there when the door was kicked in.
It wasn’t there when I hid under the bed.
It wasn’t there when we three pushed back on the door of the safe room.
It wasn’t there when time just stood still. It wasn’t there when they suddenly entered.
It wasn’t there when they tore my dad off mom.
Mom had said that when I grew up there would be no army.
Mom was right.
Now all I want is to tell her that she is always right.
I cried, I screamed, and still she is silent.
Nowadays one has to check Avital
Liman
In the evacuees’ hotel
By the Dead sea
She carefully gathers
The doll’s hair with a ribbon
She attaches a sparkling pipe cleaner
To the ribbon.
And then she asks: “Tell me, am I alive?
And how would they know if I were dead?”
What would you say
To a four-year old girl?
“Only the living can hug. Come, let’s hug and see if We’re alive.”
Later she says:
“Tomorrow morning, let’s check again.”
Neither Silver nor a Platter
Eli Eliahu
And the land grow still, the red eye of the sky
Slowly dimming over smoking frontiers
As the nation arises, heart torn, not breathing,
For sons did not return and girls disappeared.
It will hanker for war to avenge its misery
And around it will spread only more blood and fear.
Then from afar, stepping out, pacing slowly,
Facing the nation, a girl and boy draw near.
Wearing sand and dirt, their shoes heavy
In silence they climb up the trail
They had no change of clothes, not a drop of water
From the tunnels of sorrow they come, from the fires of hell.
Unendingly tired, deprived of rest
Sweating fear of sleepless nights, They approach mutely and stand ever so motionless
No sign if they are shot alive.
Then the nation, shivering and in tears
Will ask “Who are you?” And the two will softly say
“If you do not bring us back home
There will no longer be a Jewish state”
So they will say, and clad with shadow at her feet will fall,
And the rest – in the chronicles of Israel will be told.
A Coat of Many Colors
Racheli Moshkovitz
My son returned from battle, his duffel bursting
With things that I had not packed for him.
Socks donated by the Jews in Argentina
A quilted blanket smelling like someone else’s home
A blue towel from a family in the Moshav
Tzitzit from Jerusalem
A fleece jacket gifted by a high-tech company
A scarf knitted by an elderly lady
Undershirts purchased by online shoppers
A sheet that was given to him by a friend
Gloves bought by teenage girls
A jacket from the closet of someone who came and requested to give.
I spread out all those garments
And weave together a new coat of many colors.
See, Yosef, your brothers were there for you.
*This is a retelling of Natan Alterman’s classic 1947 poem “The Silver Platter” about the sacrifices involved in establishing the Jewish state.
Kaddish
Asaf Gur
Yitgadal V’yitkadash Shmei Raba
And no one came
Many thousands called Him on Shabbat morning
Crying His name out loud
Begging Him with tears just to come
But He ceases from all His work
No God came
And no God calmed
Only Satan Celebrated uninterrupted
Dancing between kibbutzim and the slaughter festival
And our correspondent goes on to report
All while sobbing
Saying there is a burnt baby
And there is an abducted baby
There is an orphaned baby
And there is a day-old baby
Still linked to his mother’s body by the umbilical cord
He hadn’t even managed to find out his name
What will be inscribed on the tiny headstone
With a single date for birth and death
This is what the kibbutz looks like after Satan’s visit
Turning the broadcast back to the studio
Quiet now they are shooting
They are also launching rockets
And there is no government
And there is no mercy
Just the screaming and the pictures
That will never leave the mind
The seventh of October
Two thousand and twenty three.
We Need a New Torah Now
Elchanan Nir
Now like the breath of fresh air
We need a new Torah.
Gasping for air and with choking throats
We need a new Mishna and a new Gemara
And a new Kabala and New Elevations of the Soul
And inside all the wreckage and the salt and the desert land, now
A new Hassidut and a new Zionism
And a new Rabbi Kook and a new Brenner
And a new Leah Goldberg and new Yechaveh Da’at
New art and new poetry
New literature and new cinema
And new-ancient words
And new ancient souls from the treasury
And a new love out of the terrible weeping
For we were all washed in the rivers of Reim and Beeri
And we have no mountain within us nor another ten commandments
And no Mosses and no strength
And from this moment everything is
In our hands
October Rain
Writers of the history
Stand with me
Look into my eyes and see
People go away but never say goodbye
Someone stole the moon tonight
Took my light
Everything is black and white
Who’s the fool who told you boys don’t cry?
Hours and hours and flowers
Life is no game for the cowards
Why does time go wild
Every day I’m losing my mind
Holding on in this mysterious ride
Dancing in the storm
We got nothing to hide
Take me home
And leave the world behind
And I promise you that never again
I’m still wet from this October rain
October rain
Living in a fantasy
Ecstasy
Everything is meant to be
We shall pass but love will never die PARK
Lo nishar avir linshom
Ein makom
Ein otti miyom leyom
Kolam yeladim tovim echad echad
There’s no air left to breath
There’s no space
I’m gone day by day
They are all good kids one by one
Hurricane
Writer of my symphony
Play with me
Look into my eyes and see People walk away but never say goodbye
Someone stole the moon tonight
Took my light
Everything is black and white
Who’s the fool who told you boys don’t cry?
Hours and hours, empowers
Life is no game, but it’s ours
While the time goes wild
Every day, I’m losin’ my mind
Holdin’ on in this mysterious ride
Dancin’ in the storm, I got nothin’ to hide
Take it all and leave the world behind Baby, promise me you’ll hold me again
I’m still broken from this hurricane
This hurricane
Livining in a fantasy
Ecstasy
Everything is meant to be We shall pass, but love will never die
Lo tzarich milim gedolot
Rak teffilot
Afilo eem kashe lir’ot
Tamid ata mash’ir lee or echad katan
There is no need for big words
Only prayers
Even if it’s hard to see
You always leave one small light for me