I also wished to celebrate the harvest

But everything was taken by the rest

The trees had no more apples nor some pears

The orchard had not a single fig to spare.

 

But suddenly on the edge of the slope

From in between the tired thorns

A squill looks up and said – you, hey!

"Take me for home for the holiday".

 

The white of the squill was too small

To honor the feast that's loved by all

The rest was gathered way before I came

And absolutely nothing had remained

 

Yet suddenly sparkling from a bush

Peeking was -  a black, sweet shiny fruit

A blackberry cluster – looking grand

"Hey pick me up and take me with your hand"

 

With a bright squill, and berries in my bag

Would they suffice to celebrate the Chag?

So I made my way on through the paths

To check out anything that I may add.

 

As I heard the hum of autumn dusk

At the golden skyline, the horizon

A light cloud stretched out its arm to me

Offering to walk me to the feast

 

All was gathered yet I have the best.

For me as well – there was plenty left.

To the feast – my blessed crops I took

An autumn cloud, a squill and berries – too.