He spoke, in his mouth the water of feeling:
There was a sense of serenity in the town.
The smell of warm dough,
Girls with milk in their teeth.
No, she whispered:
It's the mist of memory. It seeps into the past.
Our little days, our little pains
Were so far from Jerusalem. So far.

Background: nostalgia for the old little town. A conversation between a survivor and his wife. Jerusalem: a symbol of eternal bliss.