Landscape With Falling Village Poem by Marc Radzyner

walking on Igael's track towards his unbuilt
house are two carob trees- in the autumn
walk in the morning or evening, you will smell
the fragrance of fermenting carob pods,

look down through ancient olive trees
into the fold of the hills where two villages are,
one poised ready to fall, the other way down below,
but they are the same village-

come at night and look again, like candles
a row of lamps makes a yellow bow against the mountain
and the lights of the lower village
are dim and human in their black cradle