In the Auschwitz Poems I looked for something that would concisely indicate the horrors of the camps; that would expand on some words that I have written and after a great amount of searching I decided on this one.
GRAY COLUMNS
In the gray columns of weary women
Going each day to work
Barefoot half naked, hungry cold
Wretched shadows dragging each foot.
Not all of them will return to the camp
Many will remain in the road
Their corpses will be pulled back into rows
They are needed for the roll call.
Corpses from the fields, corpses from the near blocks
Are thrown together on the piles
Today's half dead - will burn tomorrow
The same fate is waiting us all.
Only a dark smoke will burst to the skies
And the wind will whistle victoriously
Spreading the stench of burnt bodies
In glory or in defeat.
The marching columns of weary women
Young and old - mature and children
To last at least another day
Freedom must not be far away.
Monika
Birkenau, 1943
Translated from Polish by June Friedman.
No comments:
Post a Comment