A LIFE ALMOST ANEW

HALINA BIRENBAUM

My life began from its end...

חיי התחילו מהסוף...

My life began from its end – first I did learn what death was And later – giving birth I was grown amid hatred in a kingdom of destruction, only later did I learn What creating meant. I was breathing darkness, fires, withering emotions – such was the realm of my childhood, only later could I see light, only later could I see blossoming. I knew love always existed Even while life was worse than horrible! Even in the living hell it did survive – I met with love even there. My life began from its end And later it returned to the beginning. I have been raised from the dead. It all was not in vain, not in vain, since Good is no less mighty than Evil. The force of Good is in me too! – I am the proof. 20. 02. 1983.

A NIGHT IN MAY

It is quiet and cozy in the bedroom. The rythmical ticking of the clock blends with the steady breathing of my quietly sleeping children. It is an unusual night since – unlike in this season in Israel – it rains outside. The heavy raindrops are banging against the roof and quickly dribble down the panes. Fresh, cool air fills up the flat. I have wrapped myself in the quilt, nestled my head into a warm pillow, and I listen intently to the beating down of the unexpected rain. And suddenly...

It is a downpour rain. Heavy cloouds covered the sky and darkened the world. The unceasing streams pour onto the ground. Thousands of tormented and exhausted people stand in rows on the camp square.

The numb feet in the worn-out, rotten shoes get bogged down in the mud. The rainwater soaks through poor clothes, it dribbles down the heads, the faces, and the almost naked, gaunt bodies. The shivers of cold and the hunger cramps shake the prisoners. The "Aufseherins" – female SS-guards – wearing warm uniforms and waterproof coats with large hoods, weapons at their waists, make sure that we stand evenly, side by side. "Ordnung muss sein!" The order must be.

Long hours are passing by. The sky becomes darker and darker, the downpour intensifies. Dozens of people, collapsed or already dead, fall limply into the mud. No one pays any attention to it. The rain washes away the tears, pain and every feeling. Senseless eyes doggedly stare at the narrow barrack doors. A mute question plays on the lips: how much longer for? When will this torture come to an end?

Suddenly – a command is barked: Kneel! Everybody on their knees! With a superhuman effort we pull our numb feet out of this slippery swamp. With difficulty we manage to bend our stiffened knees to kneel down in the mud. The gravel cuts into the bleeding flesh.

Another command again: Hands up! Kneel straighten up! Take two bricks in each hand! And the rain continues pouring down. The wind howls and whips. The night is falling down.

Thousands of people are kneeling on the square in the swampy mud among the corpses. Their lips clenching in torture. Their tears and blood mixes with the mud and the death from the Nazi plague...

My room remains quiet and cozy. Was it a horrific dream? No, it was not. It was Auschwitz. It was that the drops of the pouring rain on this quiet night in May had taken me again into a death camp of the Shoah.

1967

Translated into English by Andrew Kobos – 2004

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