They Fought with their Bare Hands
To Mordecai Anielewicz (1919-1943)
Facing formidable forces,
Supported with tanks and artillery,
You knew that there was no way to win.
Nevertheless, you decided to fight,
Not for victory, but for Jewish honour.
So, one day in the spring of 1943,
You were 24 years old then,
The Zionist banner was hoisted
Over the Warsaw Ghetto wall,
Along with the Polish flag.
The SS troops preferred to use
Artillery fire, flamethrowers
And gas, or to blast the houses
By dynamite squads, rather than engage
In direct street fighting with untrained
And poorly armed young Jewish men
And women.
And soon the whole ghetto was aflame.
The news about the uprising spread in the world.
Broadcasts by the Underground Polish radio SWIT
Operating out of Warsaw were picked up,
As far as Sweden. The radio said that women
And children are defending themselves
With their bare hands.
The uprising galvanized resistance movements
Throughout Nazi occupied Europe. It was on May 8,
After three weeks of Combat, that you threw
Your last grenade from the bunker on 19 Mila Street
And fell together with your beloved bride Mira.
But, as you said, you realized your dream,
Because you had lived to see Jewish resistance
In its heroic greatness and resplendent glory.
You had stood up to the brutal Nazi empire
Of Adolf Hitler.
In spite of all his Military might,
The Fuehrer failed to drag you away to
Treblinka and you died as a free human being.
The Warsaw Ghetto Uprising
Transformed Jewish submission to resistance.
You helped to turn hopelessness to resolve,
Despair to vigour, degradation to courage.
You formed Dignity out of humiliation,
Sculpted from misery the grit of honour.
Like the North Star showing steadfast direction
To Desperate sailors, the light of your heroic command
Shines through the darkness of the Night.
Your young life sacrificed on the cruel altar
Of History is a luminous monument
To soulful conscience, a lofty triumph
Of the human spirit.
From your spilled blood that sunk into the earth
Of Poland, poignant sprouts of bravery and dignity
Blossom forth, flowers of freedom and buds of hope
Bear blooms of sacred petals.
poem by Paul Hartal
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Ode To Irena Sendler
Her photo stares at me dreamy and melancholic
Like golden October leaves against a cloudy sky.
She bends gently her oval head towards her right shoulder
That carries the anguished burden of the world.
The parted dark hair in the center is combed back
Into a bun adorning a charming face.
And she looks with tender caring eyes,
A countenance more enigmatic than of the Mona Lisa.
Irena Sendler, née Krzyzanowska,
Polish Catholic social worker with a loving heart,
A gracious woman of valor and compassion
A brave humanitarian and Righteous of the Nations,
The rescuer of children from the Warsaw Ghetto
I bow my head and salute you.
What was the source of your towering magnanimity?
Where did you find the moral strength for what you did?
She was born in 1910 in Otwock,25 km southeast
Of Warsaw. Her father was a physician with Socialist
Leanings. In the 1930s she was a student at the University
Of Warsaw and was expelled for three years because
She protested that Jewish students had to sit
On segregated benches in the lecture halls.
In 1939 the Nazis occupied Poland and Irena served
In the Armia Krajowa, the Polish Home Army
Under the cover name Jolanta. She also joined
the Zegota resistance organization that aided the Jews.
Her role included producing false documents that helped
Thousands of Jewish families to flee from the Nazis.
As an employee of the Social Welfare Department
Irena could enter the Warsaw Ghetto to check for signs
Of typhus. Inside the ghetto she wore the yellow Star
Of David for solidarity with the Jews. And when she
Returned to the Aryan side of the city she smuggled out
Babies and toddlers in ambulances and trams or through
The sewers.
One baby was taken out in a mechanic's tool box.
In the ambulance next to the driver
A specially trained dog would bark to veil
Any cries of the infants hidden beneath the stretchers.
The rescued children then had been handed to the care
Of priests and nuns who would help to find shelters
In convents, or in the homes of friendly families.
During the war Irena saved the lives
Of 2,500 Jewish children.
It was a dangerous mission
And she risked torture and death. One day
In late October of 1943 the Gestapo arrested Irena.
They brutally tortured her and broke her legs and feet.
But she refused to betray her network of helpers.
Then the Nazis sentenced her to death.
Eventually, on the way to the execution site
Zegota saved Irena by bribing a German guard
Who let her go. Her name was placed on the list
Of the executed.
Irena went into hiding. And when she recovered
From her injuries she continued the rescuing missions.
She registered the name and personal information
Of every child that she saved. She placed their real
Identity records in jars, which she buried
Under an apple tree in a neighbor's backyard.
When the war was over Irena unearthed the jars.
Soon the arduous search to find the parents began.
However, only a few of the children whom she rescued
From the monstrous jaws of the Nazis could be reunited
With their families because almost all the Jews of Poland,
Three million of them, perished in the Holocaust.
Irena Krzyzanowska Sendler received many honors
for her humanitarian efforts and heroic rescue operations.
Yad Vashem in Israel conferred on her the title
Righteous among the Nations. Pope John Paul II
Wrote her a personal letter thanking her for what she did.
Poland decorated her with the Order of the White Eagle
And the Jan Karski organization awarded her
With the medal of Courage and Heart.
She died in 2008, aged 98.
A noble woman with a lofty soul,
Irena did not help people for material gains, for gold
Or diamonds. Nor did she risk her life for fame.
She rescued children from the ghetto
Because of her love of humanity
And because of her belief in the sacredness of life.
She did not see herself as a hero.
The term actually irritated her.
She tormented herself and had qualms
Of conscience that she did not do enough;
That she could have done more.
It was a regret that would follow her to her death.
In a letter addressed to the Polish Parliament she wrote:
Every child saved with my help is the justification
Of my existence on this Earth, and not a title to glory.
poem by Paul Hartal
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What Is A Jewish Poem?
WHAT IS A JEWISH POEM?
What is a Jewish poem?
‘Shema’ is a Jewish poem
Perhaps the Jewish poem-
'Shmoneh Esreh' is comprised of Jewish poems
Nineteen prayers as one-
Our history is filled with Jewish poems-
From the beginning with Abraham and Sarah
Those who have given so much beyond our understanding -
Jewish poems everywhere -
Is each Jewish life a poem and a story also?
Or is it only those who give something to our people and history
Who are worthy of Poetry?
I have known many Jewish poems
People the great world will not know the names of
People who whether they walked humbly or not
Made the lives of others better in some way –
Kindness is perhaps the ultimate Jewish poem
And Justice also-
And Jewish poems are not without their contradictions –
As I write this poem in Jerusalem in the land of Israel
I think of the small Jewish world of Troy New York where I came from so many years ago
And miss so many people no longer of that and this world –
Longing for Israel for two thousand years was the Jewish poem
Living here now is a blessing and a gift
I thank God for.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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As long as Nazi violence was unleashed only, or mainly, against the Jews, the rest of the world looked on passively and even treaties and agreements were made with the patently criminal government of the Third Reich.... The doors of Palestine were closed to Jewish immigrants, and no country could be found that would admit those forsaken people. They were left to perish like their brothers and sisters in the occupied countries. We shall never forget the heroic efforts of the small countries, of the Scandinavian, the Dutch, the Swiss nations, and of individuals in the occupied part of Europe who did all in their power to protect Jewish lives.
quote by Albert Einstein
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Indomitable Will To Survive
Conditions in
the Warsaw ghetto;
inhuman Nazi
extermination camps;
proved that not
everyone possesses
raw ability to suicide;
a few will fight
struggle to survive
indefinitely regardless;
in spite of heinous
cruelty deprivations;
humiliations in which
systematically tormented;
as victims of an insidious
calculated abhorred evil;
individuals without
hope have historically
found themselves in;
during eras of oppression
raw need will to survive
surpasses all boundaries;
all oppression in rare
individuals of indomitable will;
exceptional rare human beings
who can never roll over and die;
supreme testament to faith
courage no satanic demon can break;
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Steal Away
Is just that ghetto ghetto
Ghetto ghetto
Is just that ghetto ghetto
Ghetto ghetto
We still ghetto ghetto
Ghetto ghetto
I've been thinkin lately baby
Maybe we should layin tonight
I would ?? paper was crazy
Music if is wrong I feel this right
Maybe we can make sweet love
Cause I know we feel so good
And more of two we escape this pressure
You know what? We should
Steal away
song performed by by Mary J Blige from No More Drama
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An Oak Wood Piano on Kristallnacht
The SS guard hit Zindel Grynszpan on the head and he fell
Into a ditch. Father, he heard the voice of his son, you must
Go on. Zindel took the hand of his son and climbed out of
The trench. With his wife, a son and daughter on his side
They continued the march. But the SS guards did not stop
The savage whipping of the deportees. Blood was flowing
On all sides.
The Grynszpan family were Polish Jews from Hanover.
When the Nazis came to power they became outcasts.
In October 1938 they were expelled from Germany
And deported to Poland in a group of 12,000 Jews.
They were taken by train to the frontier town Neubenschen
And from there on foot to the German-Polish border.
When they reached the border heavy rain started to fall.
The Nazis confiscated their money. They had no food to eat.
Polish officers arrived and began to inspect their papers.
They admitted the refugees with Polish passports,
Housing them in military stables. Old, sick and children
Were herded together in most inhuman conditions.
One of the first things that Zindel did in Poland was to send
A postcard to his seventeen year old son Hirsch in Paris.
When Hirsch Grynszpan read the family’s tribulations
He became furious. His heart was filled with rage and hatred
And he decided to avenge their sufferings. On the morning
Of November 7, Hirsch entered a gunsmith’s shop on rue
Faubourg Saint-Martin and purchased a 6.35 calibre pistol
With a box of 25 bullets, for 235 Francs.
Then he took a ride on the Metro to the Solferino stop
And walked to the German Embassy at 78 rue de Lille.
Hirsch told the receptionist that he has some documents with him.
He was received by Ernst vom Rath, the third secretary.
When the German diplomat closed the door Hirsch pulled out
The gun. “You are a filthy Kraut”, he said, “and in the name of
12,000 persecuted Jews here is the document”. He fired five
Bullets from point blank range at vom Rath. The diplomat died
Two days later of his wounds.
The assassination came as a godsend thing for the Nazis.
Hitler denounced it as part of a global Jewish conspiracy
Against Germany. It became a pretext for the well-orchestrated
Pogrom of Kristallnacht, the night of broken glass.
During the night of November 9-10,1938, in every place
Throughout the Third Reich, Storm Troops attacked Jews
And Jewish institutions.
Hitler’s henchmen burnt down or destroyed in Germany
Nearly two hundred synagogues. They burst into Jewish houses,
Broke the glass of Jewish businesses and beat up Jews wherever
They found them. About ninety people were murdered
And thousands of others were wounded in the street violence.
The Nazis also arrested thirty thousand Jews and sent them
To concentration camps in Buchenwald, Dachau,
And Sachsenhausen. And on top of all this, the Reich
Cynically imposed a billion mark penalty
On the Jewish Community to pay for the damages.
In Berlin hundreds of truncheon swinging storm troops
Led the mob in smashing up the glass plate windows
Of Jewish stores. In the Jewish neighbourhoods of German
Cities the Nazis lit bonfires. They threw on them to burn
Torah scrolls, prayer books and whole libraries. Thousands
Of Germans joined the Storm Troops in the atrocities.
But many resented the pogrom. People watched in horror
The roundup; they cried silently behind their curtains.
On a third floor balcony in Leipzig
Storm Troops shattered a balustrade and pushed
An upright oak wood piano over the edge. It plunged like
A black wingless dragon and fell helplessly to the street.
It crashed on the pavement with a shocking clamour.
Its wooden casing had split. The strings stripped bare
Stood in the middle of the wreckage as an orphan harp
Screaming with a heartbreaking outcry.
poem by Paul Hartal
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I'm playing a very strong character, it's the story of the woman Polish Jews out of the Warsaw ghetto. I've just begun my weapons training and the SAS type training that's getting me fit.
quote by Sadie Frost
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In The Ghetto
As the snow flies
On a cold and gray chicago mornin
A poor little baby child is born
In the ghetto
And his mama cries
cause if theres one thing that she dont need
Its another hungry mouth to feed
In the ghetto
People, dont you understand
The child needs a helping hand
Or hell grow to be an angry young man some day
Take a look at you and me
Are we too blind to see
Do we simply turn our heads
And look the other way
Well the world turns
And a hungry little boy with a runny nose
Plays in the street as the cold wind blows
In the ghetto
And his hunger burns
So he starts to roam the streets at night
And he learns how to steal
And he learns how to fight
In the ghetto
Then one night in desperation
A young man breaks away
He buys a gun, steals a car
Tries to run, but he dont get far
And his mama cries
As a crowd gathers round an angry young man
Face down on the street with a gun in his hand
In the ghetto
As her young man dies
On a cold and gray chicago mornin
Another little baby child is born
In the ghetto
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In The Ghetto
(words & music by scott davis)
As the snow flies
On a cold and gray chicago mornin
A poor little baby child is born
In the ghetto
And his mama cries
cause if theres one thing that she dont need
Its another hungry mouth to feed
In the ghetto
People, dont you understand
The child needs a helping hand
Or hell grow to be an angry young man some day
Take a look at you and me,
Are we too blind to see,
Do we simply turn our heads
And look the other way
Well the world turns
And a hungry little boy with a runny nose
Plays in the street as the cold wind blows
In the ghetto
And his hunger burns
So he starts to roam the streets at night
And he learns how to steal
And he learns how to fight
In the ghetto
Then one night in desperation
A young man breaks away
He buys a gun, steals a car,
Tries to run, but he dont get far
And his mama cries
As a crowd gathers round an angry young man
Face down on the street with a gun in his hand
In the ghetto
As her young man dies,
On a cold and gray chicago mornin,
Another little baby child is born
In the ghetto
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Dancer of Melody Palace
How is your beer?
Good. Bavaria brews the best beers in the world.
That is true. So what did you do in the war?
I was in the Russian front, wounded three times. How about you?
I was an SS guard in Auschwitz and Birkenau.
Was not that boring?
It was routine work. But unusual things had happened.
Don’t tell me that you ran out of Cyclon B for the gas chambers.
No. But on October 23,1943, we had some trouble
with a transport of 1,700 Jews who arrived from Bergen Belsen.
What sort of trouble?
Well, as usual, before gassing them we told them to undress.
In this group was a young and beautiful dancer, Franceska Mann.
She worked at the famous Melody Palace nightclub in Warsaw.
This sounds to me more like a musical than real trouble.
Just wait. Ogling Franceska, Sergeant-Major Schillinger
ordered her to undress completely. Yet she stood there hesitating.
Since others were slow as well we began to deliver blows
to the women to speed up the process. Then suddenly this Jewess,
the dancer, threw her shoe or something into Schillinger’s face.
What? Are you serious?
Yes, I am.
And he did not shoot her on spot?
Well, the sergeant-major tried. Astonished and furious
he opened his gun holster but Franceska was faster. She seized
his pistol and shot him twice in the stomach, wounding him mortally.
It is hard to believe this.
Yes, indeed. And she also managed to fire a third shot
injuring SS Sergeant Emmerich. In the ensuing commotion
the desperate women attacked the guards,
severing the nose of an SS soldier and scalping another.
How could you let this happen?
We were taken by complete surprise. This thing never happened before.
I am embarrassed to tell you this but we fled from these women.
So what is the end of the story?
We returned of course soon with machine guns and grenades,
led by camp commandant Rudolf Hoess.
We took the women outside and shot them one by one.
This ended the revolt of the Jewish women in Birkenau.
What about Schillinger? Did he survive?
No. he died of his wounds. Some say he was groaning
and asking God why he has to suffer like this.
poem by Paul Hartal
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Jewish immigration in the 20th century was fueled by the Holocaust, which destroyed most of the European Jewish community. The migration made the United States the home of the largest Jewish population in the world.
quote by Jon Porter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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House Of Secrets
[Intro]
oh no. no. let me go.
[hah hehe]
no. god no!
shut up!
[song]
shhhhhh. it's okay, it's okay.
this is our, dirty, little, secret.
we're all alone in the city
my hands are stoned with pity
i could get by or get high with fifty [yeah]
and i don't feel pretty ... today.
and there's a lady in a stable
her daddy reads her fables
about the moon & his bride
he's in her room every night
& feeds upon a table
of silken robes
an altar of stone
but the child is unable
to run, run, run
& flee his tower of babel
so blood, blood, blood
slithers down her ankles ...
we're all alone in the city
my hands are stoned with pity
i could get by or get high with fifty [yeah]
and i don't feel pretty ... today.
come one
come all
witness the fall!
cry to the sky!
today we break away!
uprising!
uprising!
uprising!
in the house of secrets!
what happens here, stays here
say nothing, disappear!
uprising!
uprising!
locked away
in the chamber of the hysterics
here, in the house ... of secrets.
we're all alone
& i will tell you of loneliness.
[shhhh.]
song performed by by Otep
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Resistance
Resistance
Identity lost,
Dignity ripped,
Land occupied,
Resistance inevitable,
History witnessed;
The tribe of Mahatma,
The nation of Martin,
The country of Nelson
Prevailed,
Sabers never rattled,
Bullets never fired,
Blood never shed
But,
Identity reclaimed,
Dignity restored,
Land freed,
And above all,
Peace won.
poem by Ibrahim Ibn Salma
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An Apology on Behalf of the Human Race
As the dignity of the human spirit never waned
In the forlorn look on the Jewish face and their race
As endured thru decades of the slime of degradation
By Gestapo secret police who had no secrets of their damned intent
To build camps on foundations deep in the abyss of hell
Clogged with a dismal cast of human expiration
The devils cloud desecrates the sky of star witness
Above the dead end train stop of Auschwitz
The Fuehrer’s anti -semenistic breath bred life into his monster web
And the tribe followed.
To dwell on the horror which is well documented I decline
But
I Apologise on Behalf of the Human Race
I apologise from the bottom of my heart
I apologise for all those lies
I apologise for closed doors
I apologise for closed eyes
How on earth could the Holocaust happen?
Lest We Forget
poem by Ken e Hall
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Grammar School Days
Once I saw a black and white photo
taken by a Japanese tourist -
English schoolboys sauntering
down a street in London
on their way to grammar school.
The sky clear of bombers
overhead that September morning-
I thought of Polish schoolboys
as they ran pellmell through rubble
seeking shelter from the German
blitzkreig that same day in September.
Grainy newsprint photos of the dead
and dying in Warsaw ghetto streets
appeared soon enough and replaced
the image of English schoolboys
taken by the tourist on holiday.
A holocaust on the horizon
and we slept on in peaceful dream.
poem by Michael Pruchnicki
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Campo di Fiori
In Rome on the Campo di Fiori
Baskets of olives and lemons,
Cobbles spattered with wine
And the wreckage of flowers.
Vendors cover the trestles
With rose-pink fish;
Armfuls of dark grapes
Heaped on peach-down.
On this same square
They burned Giordano Bruno.
Henchmen kindled the pyre
Close-pressed by the mob.
Before the flames had died
The taverns were full again,
Baskets of olives and lemons
Again on the vendors' shoulders.
I thought of the Campo dei Fiori
In Warsaw by the sky-carousel
One clear spring evening
To the strains of a carnival tune.
The bright melody drowned
The salvos from the ghetto wall,
And couples were flying
High in the cloudless sky.
At times wind from the burning
Would driff dark kites along
And riders on the carousel
Caught petals in midair.
That same hot wind
Blew open the skirts of the girls
And the crowds were laughing
On that beautiful Warsaw Sunday.
Someone will read as moral
That the people of Rome or Warsaw
Haggle, laugh, make love
As they pass by martyrs' pyres.
Someone else will read
Of the passing of things human,
Of the oblivion
Born before the flames have died.
But that day I thought only
Of the loneliness of the dying,
Of how, when Giordano
Climbed to his burning
There were no words
In any human tongue
To be left for mankind,
Mankind who live on.
Already they were back at their wine
Or peddled their white starfish,
Baskets of olives and lemons
They had shouldered to the fair,
And he already distanced
As if centuries had passed
While they paused just a moment
For his flying in the fire.
Those dying here, the lonely
Forgotten by the world,
Our tongue becomes for them
The language of an ancient planet.
Until, when all is legend
And many years have passed,
On a great Campo dci Fiori
Rage will kindle at a poet's word.
poem by Czeslaw Milosz
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I don't really know of the Jewish tradition of comedy, only the Jewish tradition of not keeping your mouth shut. Complaining about all that is hard, unfair or ridiculous in life-having strong feelings, and not being able to suppress them. That, to me, is Jewish.
quote by Fred Melamed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Holocaust Latvia Begins
Holocaust Latvia begins
on June 22,1941 when
the German army invaded
the Russian Soviet Union;
and the Baltic States
of Lithuania, Latvia,
and Estonia which had
by Soviet military forces;
recently been occupied
after a proud period
of independence after
World War One finished.
Murders of Jews
Communists began
almost immediately
by Einsatzgruppen;
perpetrated by German
killer squads known
as Special Task Groups
Special Assignment Groups;
the German Security Police
Sicherheitspolizei or Sipo
the Security Service of the SS
the Sicherheitsdienst or SD.
The first recorded murders
were on the day after invasion
on the night of June 23,1941
in town of Grobina near Liepāja;
six Jews were killed
in the church cemetery
by Sonderkommando
1a members deployed;
with the 14th Army
Nazi German
Einsatzkommandos
were a sub-group;
of five Einsatzgruppen
mobile killing squads
up to 3,000 men each
composed of 500 to 1000;
officials of dread SS
Schutzstaffel (SS)
and Gestapo thugs
their vile missions;
the annihilation of Jews
Gypsies Soviet political
Commissars to kill Jews
all Polish intellectuals;
Romani, communists
NKVD collaborators
in captured territories
behind the advancing;
German front lines
Nazi occupiers
were also aided
by a unit of native;
Latvians known
as Arājs Commando
Latvian auxiliary police
Wehrmacht commanders;
bolstered the strength
of the Einsatzgruppen
with regular-army troops
whenever required.
Latvia July 29,1941
forty mental patients
from Lódz in Poland
are taken from hospital;
executed in nearby forest
July 31,1941 Hermann
Göring instructs SS Reich
Security Service chief;
Reinhard Heydrich
to evacuate eliminate
all European Jews
in German-held territory;
Göring's letter mentions
'complete solution'
to European Jewry
Jews purified in death;
July 1941 Germans
establish a Jewish
ghetto at Dvinsk Latvia
July-August 1941;
Jews are murdered
by the tens of thousands
throughout western
Soviet Union Lithuania;
Romania and Latvia
who are the murders?
German Einsatzgruppen
Romanian troops militia;
Ukrainian peasants
Lithuanian civilians
August 1941 German
slaughter of Jews;
at Cesis Latvia
is celebrated
by German troops
security police;
celebrate with
a Totenmahl
'death banquet'
August 1941;
in Belgium
collaborationist
military
organization;
Legion Wallonie
Wallonian Legion
is established
September 29-30 1941;
Babi Yar Kiev
Soviet Ukraine
33,771 Jews
killed in two days;
by SS and German
police units
November 30 and
December 8 1941;
at Rumbula forest
near Riga Latvia
25,000 Jews
killed in two days;
Einsatzgruppen
will murder
over one million
people in occupied;
territories the first
Nazi organized
policy mass killing
of European Jews.
Copyright © Terence George Craddock
See also The Holocaust Files!
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Auschwitz; A Paradise to Nazi State
I hear the whispers like in a dream
Oh! I was there in their stinking latrine
Worst than Amonia I inhaled
Solid human dung deposited on commodes
And the flushing not worked
As the ridiculous Nazi 'Economia' of water.
While I was a sailor have been to Port of Bremen
And I saw the miracle paintings of Adolf Hitler
This same Man did the Holocaust who believes?
Now I realized the insanity of a painter-criminal
Who hates the humanity and fond of deprivation?
Is this a dream or really I heard a Jewish girl cried;
'They raped my poor Mom, teenage sister and poor father
before they raped me.'
And this was written on my heart;
'They were tormenting and tormenting me. And then they decided to get rid of me. They sent me to prison. And the details of my sentence - do you think I heard anything or I read anything about it? I heard nothing and read nothing. Judges were in rush they had theatre tickets so they were in hurry to leave the court.'
* To all the friends in Worldwide!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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I didn't want to be on the losing side. I was fed up with Jewish weakness, timidity and fear. I didn't want any more Jewish sentimentality and Jewish suffering. I was sickened by our sad songs.
quote by Lionel Blue
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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