I Remember Babylon Poem by Robert Eckstein

I remember Babylon,
The fig trees in huge clay pots on the roof,
Cool, sweet melons, and small meat pies
In a thin, flaky crust,
Golden wine and music far into the night,
Syrup poured on snow
Swift runners brought back
From the mountain tops.
The household gods
In their shelter in the courtyard;
We would kiss them on our way to school
And leave a little offering.
I remember when a poor man stole a loaf of bread
To feed his children.
They took the baker to the public square
And flogged him.
Had he given as he ought to charity,
The poor man need never have turned thief.
I remember you could walk the streets at night,
Past midnight, past the setting of the moon
And have no need for fear.