The Stars and the Cookie Jar

"Someone should translate Raissa's stuff," she said.

And I am... I mean I was.... I mean... oh, all right.

All right.

It's got no title -- like me, she could not title for beans -- but it's it's about hunger, and the moon, in the Ghetto. It must have been written in 1943, going by the paper and the ink. You will get your translit, you picky things, right aside a literal translation, and my best attempt at verse-rendering below that. At which you will not laugh.

...Oh, by the way, I hate her handwriting. It's like someone lined up a handful of Froot Loops and used the smashed ones as diacritical marking.

Take me away from my nice fun and make me do work on my book, will you? Tricksssy. Falssssse.

P.S. Just finished reading Garth Nix's first book, 'The Ragwitch'. And, hate to say, here's the thing: I adore his writing, but the man's only got one story. One. Sigh!