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   You who once said that in Auschwitz
   every minute was an eternity
   hid under a pile of corpses
   afraid to make a sound or move
   until your liberators found you.

   Returning to a world of men
   whose brothers had tormented you
   your huge eyes screamed
   with the blood of silent martyrs
   whose stars lit the black sky.

   Wrapped in your ashen shroud,
   you walked upon the scarred earth
   that kissed your feet and wept
   for all those unnamed dead
   breathing in your bones.
COPYRIGHT 2001 Theodor Herzl Foundation
No portion of this article can be reproduced without the express written permission from the copyright holder.
Copyright 2001 Gale, Cengage Learning. All rights reserved.

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Article Type:Poem
Date:May 1, 2001
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