בס״ד
Beshallach
The Sea of Reeds was neatly split,
By Shamayim’s mighty squalls,
Israel advanced through a drying sea,
Between raging, watery walls.
Withal, Yisroel must contend,
With existential threats,
The matza’s gone, the food runs out,
Their gullets dry, not wet.
It’s true HaShem comes through for us,
Both time and time again,
Yet a People born to slavery,
Pushes Moshe to wit’s end.
Alas…our birth can yet be stillborn,
Because now, for Heaven’s sake,
Though newly delivered from Pharaoh,
We plunge into Amalek.
No comments:
Post a Comment