by Moishe Broderzon

I take my feet under my arm,
I go, I walk, stride on,
to east and west and north and south,
I look for Birobidjan.
people give this advice – it’s a habit,
take a pack on your back,
and go forth like a rabbit!

To Madagascar, the land of grass and rabbits
and when the wind will blow,
to Madagascar. No meat there,
I know that from Genesis.
that’s where Adam the first man
started to mix in,
where Mother Eve can,
be curious too,
Ay Madagascar, may as well be there
that’s the thing to do.

The sun there bakes on pagodas
Winter hot snow falls
come in to all’s ready
don’t need to make a living
for people eat each other
So poof and you’re not there.


Oh Madagascar, the land of frogs and snakes
where it’s sabbath all year long

In Madagascar where the Shikhina rests
one earns “eyshe mshayshe spolovina”
Bread rolls are made of clay
You can ride a brush, a camel
and have romance that’s free
and go strolling with a monkey
Ay Madagascar – you’re a land
of milk, honey and sand
It would all be for the best
OK, let it be
But there are antisemite crocodiles
who will not let us in today
they put a veto on us
they’re making us a ghetto
It almost doesn’t pay
Ay Madagascar they don’t have pennies
no Jewish slaughter
Ay Madagascar
you land of silence and branches
We will all be given figs
one lives in little huts
white father – black
mixed kids
with white stripes and black bars
Ay Madagascar, next year in

*”Keml in Yiddish is comb”
a pun on camel and brush.