We have no unknown soldiers

We have no grave of the unknown soldier,

One who wants to place his wreath

Has to dismantle the wreath

Into many flowers and to divide them

Into leaves and disperse them

And all the dead come home

And all of them have names.

And you too, Jonathan

My student, whose name is in the class register

Just as you name is in the list of the dead

You were my student

You had a name

You have a name.

Recently I sat with you

On the boot of a car on a dirt track

Close to Ein Gedi, dust

Rose up behind us

And we couldn’t see the mountains

Dust covered what should

Have happened three years

Later: now.

Please, even those who didn’t know you

Love him even after his death

Love him, now he has fallen,

An empty space where his shape – is his shape

And his name – is his name