For my sister; from my sister

Deer wunz
          Du not say, "We hav loss the way."
          But neether say, "It iz shorlee knowen."


My Rizel Frum a Narro Plase
               For my sister, Rizel Laya

It happend wuns, Rabbiy Yosee wuz wokking
Ammung the ruwenz ov the Tempel, the nashenz.
The saekred stoenz wer a sarro dissarray,
The pure morter intu krumbelz and lime.

Pressing between the falen piller
A witen dust on hiz tungz and breechez,
Thare kumz he intu a dirj, a breth
Ov wind, a Dotter ov a Vois*, a rushing.
                         * In Hebrew: “But Koel,”
                         where Koel is “voice”
                         and But is “daughter/feminine.”
                         The phrase is usually translated
                         “Divine Voice.”

And she sed:
     “I hu am dowting; unwerthee, unwerthee!
     “No mor may I enter in dwelling the Lor.
     “I must liv my sarro, an unspeken exxile;
     “No mor may I heer the salmz on my hart.

     “Silens, silens, wut a punnish yu ar!
          “Tu understand no mor the ling ov my Soel*!”
                         * Utherz say: yewth

Then Reb Yosee sat down on the shardz and ponderd,
Tu heer this vois a rizel in hiz Soel,
Him huze hole life a devvoten tu the ling
In hiz Soel, hu kan heer her praerz so klare.

Then this faent breez, this wind breth, Reb Yosee:
     “O Sister ov a Vois, so dowtful, dowtful,
     “Huze iyz ar blerring in this Tempel a Ruwenz,
     “Huze vois iz chok ov the dust all a werl,
     “Lissen, o lissen. Wut ar theze werdz
     “If not a brij? Take wun mor step
     “Bak tu yur Soel, tu yur waeten joy.
     “Weeping, weeping. Return frum yur exxile.
     “Ammung the Ruwenz, Sister Vois, arize!”