[Page 306]

Those who perished in flames to sanctify His name, may they blossom like branches, like stems. Blessing of blood shall flow. May the sound of their word rise in memory, Holy are the severed years, And from death, this place. Holy are their forms, holy is the dream and demise, in the heart lies deeply hidden their last song. Last pyre burns, flickers with a dying flame. On earth, freshly plowed My stem will blossom again. Float up with clouds of smoke, ascend in the flames, and there in the blue heights, bring together child with mother. Bring son and father, heal their wounds, and from every breast, peel away the yellow patch with fire. Yizkor, may their death be remembered, their tears.

[Page 307]

Yizkor, forget not the blood, forget not the destruction. See, in every way the Jew died, in every town he was the victim. His body passed away in flames, purified in fire. And before the time, like songs, his years were cut short. Yizkor, remember the prayerful end of the wanderer, who made his body a sanctuary, who went to the gallows with verses of praise songs on his lips, he accepted the beauty of creation through eyes glazed over, mute. A world starts with greenery, with blossoms, and he, the most faithful guardian, is cut short. God, accept his prayer. Of sorrow, that curls from silent days. Of all inklings, should this be the way that leads to the gallows? Of all ways is this the path. That which is destined for him, That in the middle of a spring song he shall pass from the earth. … Yizkor, remember him in fever; he who had to become a sacrifice. Under duress of whip, dig grayer

[Page 308]

To have to hear the desolate cries of his own brothers in sorrow, dig, dig the black earth, To bury his brother's remains Afterwards to be cut off by the sword himself. Yizkor, remember them and the brothers' graves when they were exiled in the thousands. The violator came and violated, and never has the world seen such pain poured out, the murderer poured out his murder, concealed. The hatred, when the murderer's hand shot. … Yizkor, remember, cry out loud to the world our cry. Such pain swirls, like smoke from an altar. And the Jew and his wife are the ready sacrifice. So much pain must be endured, so many violators came to shame him. So many deaths died. … The walls burn and the cherubs float up high to the throne of glory To tell of tortured lives that perished in honor. The stage in flames, the ark, the walls bend, collapse, angels descend as on Jacob's ladder, gathering the charred bodies from the flaming pyres.

[Page 309]

Sadly, on forlorn paths, the wind chases a straw, a leaf. The town has vanished with the smoke, And afterwards - cold, autumnal rain, That accompanies the steps on the paths. A grave in the field is a home. The root of plants nourishes. The earth is good to all, Only murderers have hearts of stone. And a grave in the field is a home. The ruins scream into the world, and the people are silent. Is silence higher than a beast's roar, That they must endure so much pain, Ruins scream into the world. Like a tombstone, a chimney stands somewhere, and there is no home. Somewhere, a crow croaks desolately, Spreading the sorrow in distant spaces, Like a tombstone, a chimney stands somewhere. The song of my grandmother flutters, Like white wings of a dove. – God of Abraham – murderers have come with slaughter and plunder – Have come to dig graves for us, The song of my grandmother flutters.

[Page 310]

Weep over all the violated prayers. Weep, the Psalms of my grandfather, For the sanctification of God's name. The communities are gone. And the sword has cut off the joys, Weep, the Psalms of my grandfather. In the west, the cross glitters on the monastery. And the synagogue lies in ruins, From the tablets, the lion stretches an open mouth Against the murderous steps, On the monastery, the cross glistens. The pump in the marketplace weeps, With silver tears, Enemies have come to extinguish the holiday star With hearts chilled, petrified. The pump in the marketplace weeps. The river flows its distant way, today just as always, Carries Job's tidings to the valley Comes to tell of severed days. The river flows its distant way. Abandoned the town, empty streets, Everything is desolate and destroyed, From somewhere wanders another relative Cloaked in horror, covered with hatred. In an abandoned town, on empty streets. Graves, graves, everywhere. The cemetery has grown larger. The joy of so many years Now lies like a mute, slaughtered lamb. Graves, graves everywhere.

[Page 311]

Holidays, weddings, wedding poles – the town is going at a gallop. Now the dead already know the secret, That everything is already gone – Holidays, weddings, wedding poles. The children's joy, the laughter The enemy has come to slaughter. It had only flourished yesterday And today – gray mothers, disgraced daughters… The joy is silent, the laughter cries. The Sabbath is gone, gone, Like western clouds with the wind. The enemy came and lights The horror in the Sabbath candlesticks… The Sabbath is gone, gone… Our holidays, much desired, That have nourished the days with joy; Now wallow in the grave, When life around lies destroyed. Our holidays, much desired. Passover – holiday of freedom, The tables sparkled with wine and light. Elijah, with a mournful face, Now walks in empty rooms, Passover – holiday of freedom. Shavuot – holiday of harvest, The greenery blooms and resonates everywhere. Only the Akdamut melody is silent, gone on bloodied steps… Shavuot – holiday of harvest.

[Page 312]

Sukkot – holiday to gather the harvest from the fields. And the Jews, like animals in the woods, gather in mourning quorums – Sukkot – holiday of gathering. Simchat Torah – joyful day, joy of knowledge, day of spirit. But somewhere a mother's cry tears, and on all the trees blooms the plague – Simchat Torah – joyful day. And the blind man walks on empty streets, taps his way, falls into pits. He doesn't know that everything is already over, a coldness from distant ruins, The blind man walks on empty streets. The moon shines, the stars light up, pouring a silver sheen over everything. There is no one to renew the moon, no one to think of Genesis. The moon shines, the stars light up.

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