The Law's Delay, a Reflection On the Majdanek Trials
The dead are silent.
Thirty-six winters have passed.
Their silence is unbroken.
The dead make bad witnesses.
They do not make themselves heard.
They are hard of hearing.
They fail to make appearances at hearings.
They do not corroborate
The evidence of living witnesses
With fading memories,
With disturbed emotions.
And henchmen are let off
Their hooked crosses.
"All human law is imperfect,"
sigh they whose sins are grave,
too grave to count.
Time heals all
but the dead
are dead still.
Not to be
Is to be
Out of court.
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