But the fir tree forest and the rushes in the pond
Answer with a kind of strange echo …
Oh, if I’m waking the dead,
Forgive me, I can’t do otherwise:
I grieve for you as for my own,
And I envy anyone who weeps,
Who is able to weep in this terrible hour
For the one who lies in the ravine’s depth …
Anna Akhmatova (1938) …


Anna Akhmatova – Russian poet

I wonder if he will grow-up to be a Palestinian poet?
Yes, the garden at Oak Tree House, has fir trees, a pond and a babbling brook. Yes, I do feel guilty, some days, living in the security and beauty of this ‘little-Eden‘.
