I Looked Out at Life with Holocaust Eyes
I looked out at life with Holocaust eyes
And what better did I know that I had been
looking through a lens of guilt and affliction,
Seeing life amiss and askew through my Holocaust guilt,
This fatal flaw was burning in my eyes
and how it lay seige to my Jewish heart,
a Greek tragedy in the making all of these years,
The guilt rose from deeply sealed vaults
Inside my Jewish eyes and heart,
I could not help but see life through my Holocaust eyes,
Until these Holocaust pangs smoldered and burned
its acrid smoke in my eye sockets,
I peeled away its painful gauze and ace bandages,
My eyes had once lamented over Holocaust afflictions,
but now i see with clarion eyes and feel anew,
With my Jewish heart by virtue of Holocaust healing balm,
As it clarified the lens, fluid and muscles of my eyes,
And now this healing balm paved a shimmering path within me,
For my Jewish heart to emerge and then shine its slendor
Outwards on straight and forward path of life.
~Alan Freshman
And what better did I know that I had been
looking through a lens of guilt and affliction,
Seeing life amiss and askew through my Holocaust guilt,
This fatal flaw was burning in my eyes
and how it lay seige to my Jewish heart,
a Greek tragedy in the making all of these years,
The guilt rose from deeply sealed vaults
Inside my Jewish eyes and heart,
I could not help but see life through my Holocaust eyes,
Until these Holocaust pangs smoldered and burned
its acrid smoke in my eye sockets,
I peeled away its painful gauze and ace bandages,
My eyes had once lamented over Holocaust afflictions,
but now i see with clarion eyes and feel anew,
With my Jewish heart by virtue of Holocaust healing balm,
As it clarified the lens, fluid and muscles of my eyes,
And now this healing balm paved a shimmering path within me,
For my Jewish heart to emerge and then shine its slendor
Outwards on straight and forward path of life.
~Alan Freshman
The Mother
"When your mother has grown older,
when her dear faithful eyes
no longer see life as they once did,
when her feet, grown tired,
no longer want to carry her as she walks-
Then lend her your arm in support,
escort her with happy pleasure.
The hour will come when, weeping, you
must accompany her on her final walk.
And if she asks you something,
then give an answer.
And if she asks again, then speak!
And if she asks yet again, respond to her,
not impatiently, but with gentle calm.
And if she cannot understand you properly
explain all to her happily.
The hour will come, the bitter hour,
when her mouth asks for nothing more."
~Adolf Hitler
when her dear faithful eyes
no longer see life as they once did,
when her feet, grown tired,
no longer want to carry her as she walks-
Then lend her your arm in support,
escort her with happy pleasure.
The hour will come when, weeping, you
must accompany her on her final walk.
And if she asks you something,
then give an answer.
And if she asks again, then speak!
And if she asks yet again, respond to her,
not impatiently, but with gentle calm.
And if she cannot understand you properly
explain all to her happily.
The hour will come, the bitter hour,
when her mouth asks for nothing more."
~Adolf Hitler