Forth with his sword,—rushed forth—returned no more!
The Germans poured into the house. One seized me
And caught me to his saddle. What came further
I know not; but long, long my mother’s shrieks
I heard ’mid clash of swords, ’mid fall of houses.
This cry long followed me, stayed in my ear;
Even now when I view flames and falling houses,
This cry wakes in my soul as echo wakes
In caverns after thunder’s voice. Behold
My memories all of Litwa and my parents.