Читать книгу Apples from Shinar - Hyam Plutzik - Страница 19

AFTER LOOKING INTO A BOOK BELONGING TO MY GREAT-GRANDFATHER, ELI ELIAKIM PLUTZIK

I am troubled by the blank fields, the speechless graves.

Since the names were carved upon wood, there is no word

For the thousand years that shaped this scribbling fist

And the eyes staring at strange places and times

Beyond the veldt dragging to Poland.

Lovers of words make simple peace with death,

At last demanding, to close the door to the cold,

Only Here lies someone.

Here lie no one and no one, your fathers and mothers.