With wrinkled fingersI look and wishThe cabbage rollsThat fill the dishWill heat and cook and be so fineand taste like memory - oh divine.

Cabbage rollsI remember theeWhen I was a ladno bigger than three.

We ate you oftenYou were a matewith meat and fishthere on the plate.

I ate you oftenYear in year outI thought I knew youwithout a doubt.

But that idea was shakenfrom my head to my kneesWhen I came to live inthe land of Cherry trees.

For people hereOf rice which they do eatFill their cabbage rollswith - What do you say? - meat!?!

I often struggle to informthat cabbage rolls with meat are not the norm,I know for fact, from my his-to-rythat cabbage rolls should be meat-free!

Which leads to now, to treasures gotA Christmas package with that which can't be bought:A pickled cabbage, the whole headpickled sour, nicely fer-men-ted.

Into each leaf it's rice that I stuff,2 pots are full, that is enough.I will enjoy and I'll remembermy mother's words one cold November.

"Finish you cabbage rolls, clean your plate.""They taste so good, Mom. In fact, they're great!"