The young soldiers who died will not speak and will hear them nonetheless.

The voice is strong and piercing and it speaks to me and to you – to all.

And it calls out the pain of wounds inflicted and the darkness of the senses – and the nothingness of blood.

And it calls out the books that will go unread and the movies that will go unseen and the love that will never be known.

And it calls out the brothers and sons and wife and his mother to whom none will return.

And the smell and the color and the taste that will never be tasted.

And it is the voice that simply answers the questions.

And it is the voice that knows better than we how to understand homeland, eretz, and nation.

The soldiers have given us this with their dying breath.

The young soldiers who died will not speak and will hear them nonetheless.

And we who stand facing their names and bidding farewell to their dust must swear that there is truth in the testament they leave us

And that we will live life as they have commanded us to do by their deaths.

For the sake of these dead, for the sake of these who live.

For the sake of the beautiful dreams that have chased away the nightmares.

For the sake of future days that are clearer, more wondrous, and more pure.