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The back, the yoke, the yardage. Lapped seams,
The nearly invisible stitches along the collar
Turned in a sweatshop by Koreans or Malaysians
Gossiping over tea and noodles on their break
Or talking…
A gush of joy in the pipe,
The pipes, the arteries of the Negev,
This is the course of the song,
From the faucet to the clod
The water of the depths ascends.
A pump means bread!
Negev, Negev, what’s…
Written down while working in the fields, patterned after the Arabic working song and sung to that tune.O I have my life and my labor!Yah ḥai li, li-hah-‘amali!Awaken, my brothers, there’s no time…