The shadows of the ghetto
have smiles petrified
by the medusa\'s gaze .
They bent to the wall ,here,
then turn back to the wall, there .
The shadows of the ghetto
have souls of stone
and empty metal tins
lethal symphony ...
they prayed a god
crowned with barbed wire ,
laughing into its beard...
They do not look up
to the wrath of heaven .
Worn out with gutter skins
the shadows of the ghetto ,
speak esperanto with brother rodent ,
herd that knows no fear
of the slaughterer ...
Around midnight
putting away the none day star
they make genderless children
who don\'t have time for a name...
In the morning ,after taking out
the garbages and shave
in front of the mirador ...
The story ends somewhere ,
yesterday or next year in Jerusalem ...
Head down ,walking among
a crowd of distracted clouds ,
they greet each other politely ,
exchanging some state secrets
about climate .
\'\' What beautiful sunshine over Paris
Herr Doktor ! \'\'
- \'\' will you still alive in Warsaw
tomorrow mein lieber Rabbi ? \'\'
These are only cubic abstractions
or algebraic destiny .
With no celebrations .
No one knows when rain will come ...
The right-hand street leads nowhere .
the left-hand street ends on the call square.
Ghosts of the ghetto seeking the shadow...
( Prophety of the century )
\'\'