Shoah - The Holocaust

POETRY ON THE SHOAH

YVONNA OPOCZYNSKA-GOLDBERG

THE WALL

Little Chaim builds the Wailing Wall
from the wooden blocks,
stronger and higher than
the wall of the ghetto on Bonifraterska Street.

No one can hear the police dogs barking
or the lament of the ghetto street,
behind the wall built by Chaim
even the best shots can not destroy it,
because behind this wall God hears
little Chaim weeping for
the destroyed temple of his childhood,
barbarians did not spare
a rag clown with the red nose,
a plushy teddy bear,
or a wooden swing in the backyard
now crowded with other kids.

Children's room with the colorful curtains
remained on the Bonifraterska Street,
little Chaim has only few wooden blocks
to build the Wailing Wall.

1998

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YVONNA OPOCZYNSKA-GOLDBERG

TOO LARGE CAP

This boy in the picture of ghetto is a star
from documentary films, war albums,
too large cap is falling
like the universe on his frail shoulders.

The small boy is not afraid any more,
for half of the century he has played the same role,
hands raised above his head
while an esesman's rifle points at his back
who will believe in stars dying in eyes of a child,
only blue star on the white armband is real.

1998

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YVONNA OPOCZYNSKA-GOLDBERG

FIVE TIMES

Who is more important a heavy sack
or seven year old Shmuel ?

The sack is more important,
because one can shove into it enough potatoes
for the entire family for a whole week.

You can not see Shmuel
behind his heavy sack,
thinks Shmuel's mother,
if they shoot, they will shoot into the sack.

It is a fifth time
that little Shmuel squeezes through
the small hole in the wall.
What does Shmuel thinks about his sack
when they shoot...

1999

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YVONNA OPOCZYNSKA-GOLDBERG

RACHEL AND THE BUTTERFLY

Rachel is more light than the butterfly,
but frozen into the cobble stone
she will not fly, though it is a spring.

She can not move her swollen feet,
her palms are like a cobble stone.
She closes her eyes,
the blue dress is on the meadow
scattered with marigolds,
the bare feet are in the grass
and a buttterfly is like a song.

And you can no longer see Rachel
in the pile of dirty rugs,
she flew away from the ghetto street.

1999