| 5. TEREZIN The heaviest wheel rolls across our foreheads To bury itself deep somewhere inside our memories. We've suffered here more than enough, Here in this clot of grief and shame, Wanting a badge of blindness To be a proof for their own children. A fourth year of waiting, like standing above a swamp From which any moment might gush forth a spring. Meanwhile, the rivers flow another way, Another way, Not letting you die, not letting you live. And the cannons don't scream and the guns don't bark And you don't see blood here. Nothing, only silent hunger. Children steal the bread here and ask and ask and ask And all would wish to sleep, keep silent and just to go to sleep again... The heaviest wheel rolls across our foreheads To bury itself deep somewhere inside our memories. --Michael Flack, 1944 Terezin Home | Poem 1 | Poem 2 | Poem 3 | Poem 4 | Poem 5 | Poem 6 | Poem 7 | Poem 8 | Poem 9 |