IF ALL THE HEAVENS WERE PAPER ( per Christine )
If all the Heavens were paper
and all the seas of the world were ink
I could not tell you, my dear parents,
how much deep sadness I got in my heart.
How many tears, how much pain
I see around me.
We rise up at livid daybreak
then they drive us to the woodland
to cut wood, ragged and half-naked,
with our feet crooked and bleeding;
they took our shoes and coats away,
we sleep on the bare floor.
Almost every night, like a ritual,
they come and beat us with wooden clubs;
Franz laughs and throws us a carrot
and we, like hungry grubs
fight with teeth and nails
even for the last leaf.
Two boys have escaped:
so we were ordered to form a square.
Then they shot one dead every five,
but even if I was no fifth in order
there's no future for me in this camp,
and I cannot live.
I bid you farewell
to all of you, my beloved parents,
brothers and friends.
I greet you and weep.
Chaim.
13 окт 2024
