The haroset, A mixture of apples, nuts, wine and spices,
Represents the mixture of clay and straw
From which in bondage
We made our bricks.
It recalls as well
The women of Israel
Who bore their children secretly
Beneath the apple trees of Mitzrayim.
And like the apple tree,
Which brings forth fruit and only then
Sprouts leaves to protect it,
Our heroic mothers bore children
Without any assurance of security or safety.
We recall this beautiful, militant devotion
Which sweetened the misery of slavery
As we dip our bitters
In the sweet haroset.
It is the story of this night:
Bitter and sweet,
Sadness and joy,
Tales of shame that end
In praise
It is the story of our life.
