Soon enough, new pharaohs arise.
On sand these leaders shift
The winds aside. Like gods they flood
The plain with scalding words
And scapegoat plots. If threats persist,
They order that the Court Jew collect
Back taxes from their subjects, who
blame him for hard times and wars.
Soon enough, flakes of ash descend
Like snow on windless days
And even after the Jew is gone,
They claim he’s there, a menacing
Shadow just below the shifting seas.
While I have you, can I ask you something? I’ll be quick.
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