My grandparents ran as fast as they could
from the pogroms in Germany in 1885
to what they heard was the freedom in Romania.
They thought they had come to the Promised land,
and soon began singing:
Oh, Romania, Romania, Romania,
a land sweet and lovely, to live there is a pleasure,
what your heart desires, you can get: a mamalige,
a pastrami, a karnatzl, a glass of wine, and a bite of kashtaval.
All went well, until the Nazis arrived in 1941.
It was time to run again, when they heard: Juden Achtung!
The Iron Guard hung Jews on hooks in a butcher shop,
a parody for the kosher slaughter of animals.
My grandparents witnessed the start of the massacre of over 13,000 Jews,
before they ran again for their lives.
After a final swim with my father, in the blue waters of the Danube,
they hiked over the Carpathian Mountains to escape from Bucharest,
and were lucky, to catch the last ship for America at Marseillie Fos Port.