The people who deceived you
are thorns in the lion's paw.
You need a Jew to come along
and pluck the offending burrs.
If you escape you won't be saved.
Fur will overgrow the scars.

The barbs will work their way in,
to flourish secretly; the pain
will be the source of your identity.
Even you won't recall what is real.
You'll forget we are born innocent.
We shape our memories.

If you neglect them, your thorns
will change to claws and kill me.