in our room in the ghetto on Muranowska Street 7/9

there were two mattresses saved from fire

and a sofa, which we have received

together with a table and four chairs

from a friend

she had to abandon her beautiful apartment

in the Aryan side now

scattering her possessions among friends

(Our possessions were burned together with

the house in September)

my parents somehow organized our existence

Mother invented "delicacies" from nothing

she cooked on a clay stove

near those mattresses

measuring portions for the whole family

Dad, Mom and two brothers sat at the table

- Mom found for me a place on a foot stool

because "you are the youngest"

she stated -

in the two years when we were confined in the ghetto

I ate on that foot stool, never at the table

whenever there was something to eat...

today I remember it with love and pain

because only I - and the memory remain