Once there were three girls beautiful as gold,
who bragged about the rare antiques each of them did hold;
“I have a little head scarf,” one boasted with pride —
“From my great grandmother, with squares and flowers wide.”
“I have a jeweled needle” — the second proudly stated —
from my great grandmother with small diamonds decorated.”
Only the third girl laughed silently to herself,
And quietly opened the door to an alcove inside;
“The dearest small antique of all, is mine alone, right here —
my great grandmother herself of over a hundred years!”
Translated from the Yiddish by Sarah Traister Moskovitz. This poem is from the Ringelblum Archives and appears at poetryinhell.org.
