Home »
Poems » Michael Burch »
World War Ii Poems and Holocaust Poems - Vi - Chaim Nachman Bialik, Erich Fried
World War Ii Poems and Holocaust Poems - Vi - Chaim Nachman Bialik, Erich Fried
World War II Poems and Holocaust Poems - VI - Chaim Nachman Bialik, Erich Fried
After My Death
by Chaim Nachman Bialik
translation by Michael R. Burch
Say this when you eulogize me:
Here was a man—now, poof, he's gone!
He died before his time.
The music of his life suddenly ground to a halt...
Such a pity! There was another song in him, somewhere,
But now it's lost,
forever.
What a pity! He had a violin,
a living, voluble soul
to which he uttered
the secrets of his heart,
setting its strings vibrating,
save the one he kept inviolate.
Back and forth his supple fingers danced;
one string alone remained mesmerized,
yet unheard.
Such a pity!
All his life the string quivered,
quavering silently,
yearning for its song, its mate,
as a heart saddens before its departure.
Despite constant delays it waited daily,
mutely beseeching its savior, Love,
who lingered, loitered, tarried incessantly
and never came.
Great is the pain!
There was a man—now, poof, he is no more!
The music of his life suddenly interrupted.
There was another song in him
But now it is lost
forever.
On The Slaughter
by Chaim Nachman Bialik
translation by Michael R. Burch
Merciful heavens, have pity on me!
If there is a God approachable by men
as yet I have not found him—
Pray for me!
For my heart is dead,
prayers languish upon my tongue,
my right hand has lost its strength
and my hope has been crushed, undone.
How long? Oh, when will this nightmare end?
How long? Hangman, traitor,
here's my neck—
rise up now, and slaughter!
Behead me like a dog—your arm controls the axe
and the whole world is a scaffold to me
though we—the chosen few—
were once recipients of the Pacts.
Executioner! My blood's a paltry prize—
strike my skull and the blood of innocents will rain
down upon your pristine uniform again and again,
staining your raiment forever.
If there is Justice—quick, let her appear!
But after I've been blotted out, should she reveal her face,
let her false scales be overturned forever
and the heavens reek with the stench of her disgrace.
You too arrogant men, with your cruel injustice,
suckled on blood, unweaned of violence:
cursed be the warrior who cries "Avenge!" on a maiden;
such vengeance was never contemplated even by Satan.
Let innocents' blood drench the abyss!
Let innocents' blood seep down into the depths of darkness,
eat it away and undermine
the rotting foundations of earth.
Hear, O Israel!
by Erich Fried
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
When we were the oppressed,
I was one with you,
but how can we remain one
now that you have become the oppressor?
Your desire
was to become powerful, like the nations
who murdered you;
now you have, indeed, become like them.
You have outlived those
who abused you;
so why does their cruelty
possess you now?
You also commanded your victims:
"Remove your shoes!"
Like the scapegoat,
you drove them into the wilderness,
into the great mosque of death
with its burning sands.
But they would not confess the sin
you longed to impute to them:
the imprint of their naked feet
in the desert sand
will outlast the silhouettes
of your bombs and tanks.
So hear, O Israel…
hear the whimpers of your victims
echoing your ancient sufferings…
"Hear, O Israel!" was written in 1967, after the Six Day War.
What It Is
by Erich Fried
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
It is nonsense
says reason.
It is what it is
says Love.
It is a dangerous
says discretion.
It is terrifying
says fear.
It is hopeless
says insight.
It is what it is
says Love.
It is ludicrous
says pride.
It is reckless
says caution.
It is impractical
says experience.
It is what it is
says Love.
An Attempt
by Erich Fried
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
I have attempted
while working
to think only of my work
and not of you,
but I am encouraged
to have been so unsuccessful.
Humorless
by Erich Fried
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
The boys
throw stones
at the frogs
in jest.
The frogs
die
in earnest.
Bulldozers
by Erich Fried
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
Israel's bulldozers
have confirmed their kinship
to bulldozers in Beirut
where the bodies of massacred Palestinians
lie buried under the rubble of their former homes.
And it has been reported
that in the heart of Israel
the Memorial Cemetery
for the massacred dead of Deir Yassin
has been destroyed by bulldozers...
"Not intentional, " it's said,
"A slight oversight during construction work."
Also the murder
of the people of Sabra and Shatila
shall become known only as an oversight
in the process of building a great Zionist power.
Villagers of Deir Yassin were massacred in 1948 by Israeli Jews operating under the command of future Israeli Prime Minister Menachem Begin. The New York Times reported 254 villagers murdered, most of them women, children and elderly men. Later, the village cemetery was destroyed by Israeli bulldozers as Deir Yassin, like hundreds of other Palestinian villages, was destroyed. Sabra and Shatila in Beirut, Lebanon were Palestinian refugee camps destroyed during Israel's invasion of Lebanon in 1982. It has been estimated that up to 3,500 people were murdered. An International Commission concluded that Israelis were, directly or indirectly, responsible. The Israeli government established the Kahan Commission to investigate the massacre, and found another future Israeli prime minister, Ariel Sharon, personally responsible for allowing militias to enter the camps despite the risk of violence against the refugees. Since 1967 the Israeli Committee Against Home Demolitions has reported more than 24,000 home demolitions: hence the "kinship" of the bulldozers of Israel to those used to destroy Palestinian homes in Lebanon. Keywords/Tags: Chaim Nachman Bialik, World War II, Holocaust, Shoah, genocide, ethnic cleansing, race, racism, antisemitism, evil, brutality, inhumanity, Nazi, Nazis, concentration camps, death camps, war, world, truth, horror, mass murder
Copyright © Michael Burch | Year Posted 2020
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment