'Here is where Moses carried the bones
Of Joseph — to home's blue ridge.'
My heart weeps: my generation did not
Fulfill a will, restore a bridge.

The bones of Joseph, still warm embers,
Left behind in dead cities, abandoned layers.
And with them — the eternal light of the language.
Came here naked, without grandma's prayers …

The bones of Joseph here, under sand,
The bones of Joseph there, under Poland —
They don't know each other, act like strangers,
And cut like knives, and glow like coals.