Here a bit charred, there a line obliterated, and the whole has the appearance of an old cemetery....
What of that? Yes, indeed, that is a burial-ground where lies buried in the grave all that which we shall never have again....
And I, old, sick orphan, full of sorrow, of the awe of death, stand with bent head, stand and weep at the grave of our fathers....
XIV. THE JEWISH CHILD
Deeply buried in darkness, far from air and light,—do you see yonder the blind worm, as he creeps?
In the ground he was born, and it is decreed that forever, yes forever, he shall creep upon the earth....
Wie a Worem in der Finster,
Schwach un' stumm un' blind,—
Lebst du āb die Kindheit's Jāhren,
Jüdisch Kind!
Auf dein Wiegel singt die Mame
Nit kēin Lied
Vun a ruhig stillen Leben,
Freiheit, Fried,
Vun die Gärtner, vun die Felder,
Wu dās frische Kind
Spielt un' frēut sich frei un' lustig,
Wie der Wind.
Nēin! A Quall vun tiefen Jāmmer
Rauscht un' klingt....
Oi, wie bitter is' dās Liedel,
Wās sie singt!