A few hours from Warsaw
Among the snowy hills of Poland
Lies safely
My Siedlce.
And there for generations my family lives
And there are seamstresses, and there are writers, and there are also a few butchers
Where the Rebbe sits with all the Hasidim.
And there they laugh, and there they dance
And there is a tradition in my Siedlce,
A town of Jews.
And when I was in Treblinka,
Between the stones,
I put a flower on the stone
Of my Siedlce.
It’s a song full of longing
To a town I did not have the privilege of growing in
To a family I did not get to know.
May God have mercy on us