Komemiut
At the Yishuv in Komemiut
In 5717
The Jewish Agency planted orchards,
Twelve in the neighboring fields,
But the orchard in Komemiut
That was part of my inspection round
Was to be untended all next year
Under the Shmitah command.
I went round and I inspected,
The orchard people all round
Said the trees would not survive the ravages,
They were little saplings, not proud,
And I wondered how it would work out
For those trees and those farmer’s hands.
At the end of 5719 I went round
And the twelve all around were not bad
But the Komemiut orchard was extravagant,
Like the flowers had leaped on those arms,
There were oranges like a lorry load
Waiting to fall to the ground.
Now you tell me rabbi,
What exactly happens now?
Do we all keep this mishigas
Or does physics continue for those of us
Who only understand a plough?
I don’t mind but you tell me
What to tell to the lads.
They’re not bible-readers, they’re Bolsheviks,
Did they come here to find that God is a Commissar?
And He tells you what’s your land, what’s His and whose is what?
I don’t understand it your honour. You should have seen those flowers.