A few weeks ago it was international holocaust remembrance day, which falls on 27 January each year, serving as a reminder of the ultimate horror of a totalitarian state taken to its final conclusion. I was left without internet throughout much of January, and so I couldn't put this poem on hive on the day.
I visited Auschwitz in Poland four years ago where I wrote the poem presented above. What happened at Auschwitz was horrific, and remembering what happened under Nazi rule is essential to make sure that this history never repeats. The poem reflects the inhumanity I felt in the atmosphere while wandering the fields at Birkenau.
The only way I can describe it is that the land holds on to the memory of atrocity. It hit me like a gut punch when I entered that place, and for those who feel these types of things the psychic scar can be felt profoundly, as a mire of evil memories.
The poem says all this in far fewer words, but there are many others who have expressed the inconceivable inhumanity of the holocaust and I would like to share a poem that always strikes me to the heart.
Try To Praise The Mutilated World
Try to praise the mutilated world.
Remember June’s long days,
and wild strawberries, drops of wine, the dew.
The nettles that methodically overgrow
the abandoned homesteads of exiles.
You must praise the mutilated world.
You watched the stylish yachts and ships;
one of them had a long trip ahead of it,
while salty oblivion awaited others.
You’ve seen the refugees heading nowhere,
you’ve heard the executioners sing joyfully.
You should praise the mutilated world.
Remember the moments when we were together
in a white room and the curtain fluttered.
Return in thought to the concert where music flared.
You gathered acorns in the park in autumn
and leaves eddied over the earth’s scars.
Praise the mutilated world
and the grey feather a thrush lost,
and the gentle light that strays and vanishes
and returns.
(By Adam Zagajewski)
This post is written in dedication to all those who died in the holocaust.
“To forget would be not only dangerous but offensive; to forget the dead would be akin to killing them a second time.” — Elie Wiesel, Night
Thanks for reading.
All pictures used in this post are creative commons licence, or my own design. If you have enjoyed this poem, you can check out my homepage @raj808 for similar content. Thank you.
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