In Egypt, we were beautiful
As G-d’s children, recognizable,
Kept our language and names,
As Hebrews, we were clad.
Kindness promised to each other,
The sole integrity we had,
But we were weltering in blood,
We were bare and naked there,
Our souls sinking lower,
Towards the brink of despair;
Worshiped the idols of our masters,
The cruel Mitzri
Had no problem with their culture,
But with the brutal slavery
Hashem factored in our future,
For we’d run out of time,
Almost lost forever
At level forty-nine.
Just when Pharaoh thought
He’d sealed our fate,
Like the express elevator
At the Empire State,
Hashem zoomed us to the roof top,
On eagle’s wings,
Exalted first-born of
The King of Kings.
King Nevuchadnetzar
Had a dream;
He asked the prophet Daniel
What it could possibly mean:
An idol, massive and colossal,
Made of different materials,
Each part depicts an empire.
The prophet Daniel said
Bavel was represented
By the idol’s golden head,
Persia represented by its
Silver chest and arms,
Greece represented
By its belly of bronze
Its iron legs, Rome
Its feet of clay,
Depict the weak and strong
Empires of today.
A giant rock in Nevuchadnetzar’s dream
Smashes the idol’s feet
To smithereens;
The rock becomes a mountain
That fills the earth,
Heralding a new era’s birth.
When we can fall no lower,
Hashem will send
Mashiach to establish
A kingdom without end.
Please help us, HaKadosh Baruch Hu,
We’re falling fast;
Deliver us at this time
As You did, in Nisans past;
Let David’s slingshot
Smash the giant once more,
Turn the Idol to chaff,
Your righteousness, restore.
Our bondage now
Is a pervasive kind,
At a nadir of darkness,
Oppression of the mind;
Evil is called good,
Wrong is called right,
A plague casts a pall
On this long, dark night.
We’ve again misused the gifts
Your favor brings;
Guess we’ve made a mess of things,
But, like the empires of the idol,
Those of Chad Gadya,
Our saving grace through history
Is still Your emunah.
Please save us once again, Hashem,
Before we cross the line,
For it seems we are nearing
Level forty-nine.
By Sharon Marcus
