The Song Remains – דאָס ליד איז געבליבן

Tag: slaughter

  • Spring 1942

    And lo and behold Spring has indeed arrived – / Hey, sky – be joyful. Be joyful – / you’re fresh, newborn, and lie in a blue golden cradle / rocked by the gentle wind.

  • With the Night

    With the night my silky dreams dissolved. / With the night my quiet singing stopped. / With the day, my poem arrived swimming / on the storm with a fierce echoing sound.

  • I’m Not Moving From Here

    Who else like me – for generations kindred with the field, with grass and stalk, / joined to my border, with air and earth – / can say: let the axe be like a sword – a ritual slaughterer’s knife sharp in the enemy’s cold hand. I’m not going to be moved!