Outside, the abyss of the storm, the earth trembles –
A voice of sorrow will be heard from afar, comfort will disappear.
In the streets, a devouring flame, horror and darkness –
Hopes for the future are burning, the fire has not subsided.
Inside, the silence is heard, like the sound of a thin silence –
Peace also feeds, serves, and is righteous.
Time stands still, there is no one experienced here –
There is no end, no fall, no soul is crushed.
Outside, the wind will rage, you will sail in a storm –
Nothing is safe, a curse and a curse.
Rains of blood will fall, from gloomy skies of sorrow –
Heavy clouds will gather, over the joy of youth.
Inside, a radiant aura envelops with joy –
Joy also flows, planting love.
A visible joy on the face, a constant smile on the face –
As a sign and a memento from a loving man and brother.
*
There is no smokescreen, nor even a gate –
There is no old lock that separates joy from sorrow.
Nothing is needed, not even a stone fence -
To distinguish between the house outside and the hymn inside.
At exactly that moment and at that stage –
One has the outside as a stain, and the other has the inside as gold.
Both together in the same location –
One has anxiety and fear, and the other is like the edge of the universe.
Another line is drawn, separating the houses –
He who opens, and divides into tribes.
It is not made of material, nor of bricks -
The resources are in the brain and heart.
Joy in what you have, and a smile on your face -
Only they can separate the man on the outside from the man on the inside.
Faith and confidence, that's all that's needed -
Only with their help did he get inside, from the storm outside.
Menachem Mann is an ultra-Orthodox journalist and publicist.
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