Память, ври! Да не завирайся...

Slushaĭte! Oni otyskali desi͡atʹ ischeznuvshikh kolen. Tam govori͡at tolʹko na idish. Dazhe deti s roditeli͡ami govori͡at na idish. Dshcheri ėtogo plemeni vse, kak odna, iz "Pesni pesneĭ". I vse v izrailʹskikh kupalʹnikakh. I vsë tam kak za granit͡seĭ. Tam daleko v more ukhodit pirs, po kotoromu vecherom flanirui͡ut, li͡ubui͡asʹ na zakat. Tam edi͡at dirizhabli iz kartoshki, tam prigotovli͡ai͡ut vino iz i͡ablok, kotoroe obozhaet pitʹ angliĭskai͡a koroleva. I zovetsi͡a ėto volshebnoe mesto Palangoĭ.Letom 72-go my vpervye uezzhali iz Palangi, ne brosiv v more monetku. V uslovii͡akh strozhaĭsheĭ konspirat͡sii shli prigotovlenii͡a k otʺezdu. Spusti͡a neskolʹko mesi͡at͡sev, "bespachportnye", s biletom v odin konet͡s i polnym serdt͡sem schastʹi͡a, my uleteli. I kogda pilot obʺi͡avil: "Pod nami Vilʹni͡us", Susannochka, do togo nesokrushimyĭ flagman nasheĭ ėmigrat͡sii ("I͡A rabov rozhatʹ ne budu"), vdrug prolila slezu.

Listen up! They found ten missing tribes. They speak only Yiddish there. Even children with their parents speak Yiddish. The daughters of this tribe are all, as one, from the "Song of Songs". And all in Israeli swimsuits. And everything there is like abroad. There, a pier goes far out to sea, along which they stroll in the evening, admiring the sunset. There they eat airships made of potatoes, there they make wine from apples, which the English queen loves to drink. And this magical place is called Palanga.In the summer of '72, we left Palanga for the first time without throwing a coin into the sea. In conditions of the strictest secrecy, preparations for departure were underway. A few months later, "passport-free", with a one-way ticket and a heart full of happiness, we flew away. And when the pilot announced: "Vilnius is below us," Susannochka, the previously indestructible flagship of our emigration ("I will not give birth to slaves"), suddenly shed a tear.