I am preparing Gefilte Fysz"

sweet stuffed fish cooked by Polish Jews

(Mocked -often by us)

the wonderful aroma is spreading all around

thoughts about far away home

impatiently waittng

for the well known taste

will I be able to achieve it?

suddenly a picture flashed before my eyes Mom sitting on a small stool

across a higher stool

chopping on a thick board with a cleaver

the pulp of the fish

turning it over again and again

till she was worn out

with patience, with knowledge

her hands are nimble, concentrating on her work

she does not dare to grind it in a mincer

so it would not blacken

I see her clear now

through a fog of terrible distances

again so near, close to me

a smile of indulgence and forgiveness on her lips

for the way I am trying to imitate her

the easy way, worthy of reprimand

with a help of an electric mixer! -

and she is smiling

to me or maybe to herself

with a mother's wonderful tenderness

with some astonishment or a tinge of pride

that I am already mature, grown

preparing fish for my family for holidays

a girl

from whom she was torn away