ORPHEUS IN THE LAND OF ISRAEL

My field buried
sheaves buried
rocking horses buried
my father buried
doves buried
chicken coops buried farm buried
the Jezreel Valley forest buried
the children of Katznelson Street buried
the nursery school on the Street of Railroad Workers buried
the railroad workers buried wooden bikes
the scout from the land of buried dreams buried
the magic carpet buried the Negev prairies buried
the ice wagons buried the coal men buried
the burning shack on Berdechevsky Street buried
the poverty of the Fifties buried rationing buried
simplicity buried industriousness, suppressed inner cries,
the Philips radio console buried soda with flavored syrup buried
Ben Gurion buried, Matossian buried, Nelson cigarettes of excellent Virginia tobacco buried,
light splashes from the dead glassy eyes of skyscrapers
dazzle and strike the sky of
a childhood among orange trees and kitchen gardens,
smoke rises in the morning windows, in the eyelids of dreamers
waking to a day of raspberries and pain.
 
 
 
 
 

אורפיאוס בארץ ישראל

אורפיאוס בארץ ישראל