I was supposed to leave you behind in Egypt,
together with the mud and straw,
in a land covered in grief,
where the dough never rose for me.
When we hurry into freedom,
we forget to say goodbye.
Not everything was bad, we eventually claim
and remember the taste of melons, the days by the Nile.
Today I miss the Nile.
I miss the love I had for you.
I am thankful you didn’t drown.
The truth is you didn’t bother
to come after me when I escaped in a hurry.