At last she married the man she wanted,
When our father grew tired
Of giving battle with real life.
But it was too late, even for hope.
She told me:
The child I never had,
I've left it in an old lullaby.
My little one,
Remember it. Sing it for me.

Background: the marriage of a sister in the Ghetto- the father wanted an arranged marriage with a scholar. My mother speaks, alluding to the lullabies she sang to me, years later.