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It is Burning

by Mordechai Gebertig

Died in the Krakow Ghetto in 1942

It's burning, brothers! It's burning!
Oh, our poor village, brothers, burns!
Evil winds, full of anger,
Rage and ravage, smash and shatter;
Stronger now that wild flames grow --
All around now burns!
And you stand there looking on
With futile, folded arms
And you stand there looking on --
While our village burns!

It's burning, brothers! It's burning!
Oh, our poor village, brothers, burns!
Soon the rabid tongues of fire
Will consume each house entire,
As the wild wind blows and howls --
The whole town's up in flames!
And you stand there looking on
With futile, folded arms,
And you stand there looking on --
While our village burns!

It's burning, brothers! Our town is burning!
Oh, God forbid the moment should arrive,
That our town, with us, together,
Should go up in ash and fire,
Leaving when the slaughter's ended
Charred and empty walls!
And you stand there looking on
With futile, folded arms,
And you stand there looking on --
While our village burns!

It's burning, brothers! Our town is burning!
And our salvation hands on you alone.
If our town is dear to you,
Grab the buckets, douse the fire!
Show that you know how!
Don't stand there, brothers, looking on
With futile, folded arms,
Don't stand there, brothers, douse the fire! --
Our poor village burns!

(As part of a new initiative to include creative content into periodic 3GDC Newsletters, feel free to submit your own Holocaust related original poems, essays, short stories, or photographs to be featured in upcoming Newsletters. Have something to submit? Please send your work to Adam@3GDC.org)

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