In a realm where time softly weaves, Zalmy turns thirty, a moment that cleaves, The past from the future, a new chapter bright, With gifts of meaning, a cherished sight. First, a talit, as white as dawn’s glow, To wrap him in blessings wherever he'll go, Its threads like prayers spun from hope’s gentle loom, A garment that whispers through silence and room. Next, a talit bag to cradle with care, A keeper of stories, a journey to share, Embroidered with history, with dreams intertwined, A reminder of roots, and the faith that’s enshrined. In these gifts, the soul finds a homeward retreat, A birthday embraced with love and with peace. May Zalmy's path be as vast as the skies, With the talit’s embrace, let his spirit rise.