“Can’t complain.
It used to be so much worse,”
my grandma would say,
sighing deeply.

It’s a sin to complain.
No war, 

no pogroms.
We’re not shlimazels.

Life is just

so sudden,
like the desert wind,
sometimes plain,
like a bunk in a barracks.

Remember, baby,
believe and hold your light
through dark sorrow
and heartless gloom.

No need to complain.
They wanted to kill us,
but look – we survived.

And as long as we have food 

and books—
we can say we’re well off.

Remember, child,
don’t praise fate out loud.
People envy.
The naked are free of bribes.

But don’t you grumble either 
against fate—
the world won’t be moved
by our oaths and tears.

Think and listen.
Don’t speak for nothing.
A word out of your mouth is a fool.
A word held inside is a master.

It’s a sin to complain.
We’re not loved—
I don’t know why—
but over time, you get used to it.

Remember, child,
carry love in your heart.
You sow hate,
you reap hate.

Know this:
even if war comes tomorrow,
if they brand a number
once again on soft skin,

we’ll walk on water
among the sands.

Baby, this shall pass—
and this too,
this too.

#jewish #war #antisemitism