The shadows of the ghetto

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  my dear 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 )

 ''