CAROLINE CARVER

Warsaw Ghetto

When he was six still small enough to crawl through drains
before those numbers on his arm were part of him a prosthesis he could never shake off

Matt searched for food at nights dodging soldiers hiding in shadows learning to count:

one bare-barked tree in Warsaw where suffering was marked by punishment and death

one Augean Stable “cleansing” of the Ghetto

twelve members of his family missing

two years of trains to Treblinka and Auschwitz

(his mother held him high as long as she could even then he could scarcely breathe)

Today one single blackened desiccated tree still stands
photographs and flimsy messages dangling from its branches

uncounted:

streetwise sparrows eyeing tourists hoping for crumbs
like Matt breadwinners for their families.

Cristina Florea

Caroline Carver
 

Ghetoul din Varsovia
 

Cand avea sase ani ... inca indeajuns de mic pentru a se furisa prin conducte,
inainte ca acele numere de pe brat sa devina o parte din el,
un stigmat de care avea sa nu se mai poata elibera vreodata

Matt cauta hrana noptile ...pacalind soldati ...ascunzandu-se dupa umbre...invatand sa numere: un arbore cojit si gol in Varsovia, unde suferinta era marcata prin pedeapsa si moarte,
o abominabila „curatire” a ghetoului
doisprezece membri ai familiei sale... disparuti,
doi ani in vagoanele spre Treblinka si Auschwitz
(mama il ridicase cat de sus putuse, chiar si asa abia putea respira)

Astazi un singur copac uscat si innegrit a mai ramas,
cu fotografii si mesaje scurte atarnate in crengi
carora le pierdeai numarul:
ereti ageri ochind turisti, asteptand firimituri,
la fel ca Matt... truditori pentru painea familiilor lor.