My People Come From Poland

My People Come From Poland,
Before that some place colder, 
Before that some place long since gone, 
Before that some place older. 

My people come from ice, 
The bitter Russian Winter, 
Caught between the Cossack’s knife, 
And the burning German cinders. 

My people had it hard, 
When they lived life in the Pale,
Their lives were lived in dark, 
Storms of ice and hail. 

But then we did come home, 
After oh so many years, 
We fertilized the soil, 
With ancestors’ tears.

We came home to Tel Aviv, 
A city that we built, 
A much needed reprieve,
From a world of hateful guilt. 

For the world had always seen,
How it dealt with the Jews, 
But its hands were always cleaned,
By the lies it called the truth. 

My people come from far, 
My people come from wide,
But now they’re coming home, 
As they flee from genocide. 

We have always been alone, 
We had neighbors, never friends,
When push would come to shove, 
Where on earth, were they then? 
But now we have some land, 
Where we can live as Jews, 
United as one band, 
Of people who love truth. 

Spread Love, Spread Light,

Am Yisrael Chai