Our house is Auschwitz,
So big and black. So black and big.
Petals of skull are hidden,
Strewn amidst the tall grass.
Prayers rise up and fall back
Beneath the ashes, beneath the dream
Searching for a door, a road out.
House so big. House so black.
Lightless house, hopeless house.
As I arrive at our house
My lips turn blue.
These terror years are my path;
Their names are the way-stations.
Our house is Auschwitz,
So big and black. So black and big.
This is where our tears flow,
Destroying our sight.
This is where they crushed our pleas
For no one to hear.
This is where they turned us to ashes
For the winds to scatter.
Listen, Adam! Listen, Simon!
Eve and Mary, too!
The twenty-five thousand shadows
That watch and follow me:
These terror years are our path;
Their names are the way-stations.
House so big. House so black.
House with no street, house with no address.
-Rajko Djuric (Translated by Julie Ebin)
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