On azure skies I see birds majestic.
Soaring like day-dreams pathetic.
Where do they fly? What do they seek.
Down valley sides or mountain peak.
The seabird darts terrified of the eagle,
Constantly squawking like an army bugle.
The parrots move in gangs together,
Afraid of hot and cold weather,
Searching, searching, searching for the best,
High and secure branch to build a nest.
If by magic, a swan was my mother,
And I had wings to fly would I bother?
I lived in Dabrowa Gornicza in Poland,
The Nazis came and gave us the command,
We must work in Auschwitz Birkenau, our new realty.
Thay said that Work would set us free,
I was an ornithologist at that time,
The Nazis said my work was a crime.
I studied the white-tailed Eagle and the Mandarin Duck,
My Mother said we would need good luck,
To see the Ducks and the Swans and any bird that sings,
They fly away easy with their magnificent wings.
She said she wanted the wings of a Swan to be free,
She wanted to fly to any other place to be.
The Nazi will bang on the door soon,
And by the light of the Polish Moon,
I honour the memory of my mother,
For if I had wings to fly I would bother.