A NARRATIVE OF SADNESS
By Borys Zinger

You wouldn’t wish to witness
And see a throng of miserables,
Hordes of men and women,
Their only hope prayers that reach heaven.
The entire mass ,weak, unable to stay,
Just compelled to gape at the ground
Heartbroken, too exhausted to pray,
Powerless to poronounce a sound.

Somehow tragedy reached the hieghts,
Their screams and weeping
Echoed among the high–level knights .
The disorganized crowd were loaded on ships.

They dreamed to find homes in America’s land,
But human feelings were not at hand.
Ordered were the ships,with theire miserable cargo,
Back in cold and rain, straight to the mouth of the lion.

For them America shut the door
And sent them back to the Nazi horror.

* * *