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“Even if you kill us, we will leave traces,” insists the poet. Poems such as this one affirm the power of humanity even in the midst of atrocities committed by neighbors.
(Short Poems in Prose)
And now Blimele, dear child,
Stop—stop playing now.
No time for that.
We can be called at any minute
To leave our poor home
—A lonely boat on an island of sand—
And be hurled into the midst
Of a…
We cleansed our bodies and we are pure,
We cleansed our spirits and are at peace.
Death does not frighten us,
We shall meet it calmly.
We served God with…
Dense crowds proceed at dawn
Through Theresienstadt’s still empty streets
Five abreast curving around corners into squares.
The beast checks if anybody has stumbled.
Today God’s chosen people are…
My feet walk the streets of this blessed city,
Only yesterday full of faithful adherents of Sinai.
My eyes do not have the courage to look up.
The bitterness of my soul is great, O Holy God!
I…
After a long stay in the city, I was glad to go out, to travel as far as the Sharon, full of eagerness for fields, colors, green light. But to my misfortune, I fell into a crowded bus, crammed…
On a wagon, bound for market
There’s a calf with a mournful eye
High above her, there’s a swallow
Winging swiftly through the sky
How the winds are laughing
They laugh with all their might
Laugh…
And though after my skin worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God.—Job 19:26O the chimneysOn the ingeniously devised habitations of deathWhen Israel’s body drifted as smokeThrough the…
When I observe a toothless ex-violinist,
with more hair than face, sprawled like Karl Marx
on a park seat or slumped, dead or asleep,
in the central heat of a public library
I think of Uncle Isidore…