The memorial tablet in
Martef haShoah [Chamber of the Holocaust] on Mount
Zion, erected to immortalize the memory of the landsleit from
Rakishok and the surrounding areas who perished.
Esther Ogintz (Israel)
Rakishok
The rain – it knocks on my window,
Filling me with the
sadness of the street.
Heaven poured out its
rage,
The road is slippery
and wet.
My memories carry me away
Into the far, far past
Where specters float
by
Memories, silhouettes,
without number.
There, I see Reb Leib, my teacher
I know how to pray
clearly
Already know a very
good Hebrew
At only the age of
eight.
There, I see my teacher, Chaim Mote
He only taught me
Yiddish,
Reading Sholem
Alechiem books
At only the age of
eight.
My mother is near the warm oven
Outside – the cold
is bitter
With the “G-d of
Abraham” on her lips
She escorts the Shabbos
out.
My grandfather covers himself in sweetness –
Recites: “Hamavdil
ben kodesh l’chol.”
[“He who
distinguished the holy from the profane” – prayer said at the close
of Shabbos]
In the room it is cozy
and warm
In the hearts
pleasure, good.
In the oven the coals are burning,
The flames glowing
red.
The potatoes cooked in
pletzlekh [flat rolls or crackers]
The herring baked in
cabbage.
The rain – it knocks on my window
Giving clear shape to
my dreams.
Carries me far
distances
I have seen dreams in
reality…
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