Exile Is More Than A Geographical Concept.

Poetry Is Perhaps What Teaches Us To Nurture The Charming Illusion: How To Be Reborn Out Of Ourselves Over And Over Again, And Use Words To Construct A Better World, A Fictitious World That Enables Us To Sign A Pact For A Permanent And Comprehensive Peace ... With Life.

My Homeland Is Not A Suitcase, And I Am No Traveller

I Don't Decide To Represent Anything Except Myself. But That Self Is Full Of Collective Memory.

I Am Not A Lover Of Israel, Of Course. I Have No Reason To Be. But I Don't Hate Jews.

I Have Learned And Dismantled All The Words In Order To Draw From Them A Single Word: Home.