Sunday 27 January 2019

I Always Knew, by Magdalena Klein

I always knew how much I loved you,
That I could never leave you behind.
My body may be a worthless worm,
But my soul from yours will never be torn.



Years were passing and the horrible curse came true.
They locked us millions in cattle cars,
And even to you, so faithful to the Almighty,
The murderers denied immunity.

I couldn’t do for you a thing.
Watching you my eyes were weeping.
I wanted to follow you everywhere – even
At the price of my life, I thought then.

But on a horrible night, as our train
Slowed down and stopped in the open plain,
They stole you from me, my only treasure.
And yet, I could continue on further.

When the snow fell, I worried about you only,
You were by my side at every step.
When I got tired, you led me ahead,
You stroked me, you held my hand.

This is how I survived the dreadfully big struggle
And I returned to the old abode.
Since then I always search to find you, to reunite,
I expect you morning, noon, and night.

I always knew how much I loved you.
My soul has never left you, followed you even then.
And down here, lifelessly, I play a farce – I mime,
This world is no longer mine.
Magdalena Klein

Magdalena Klein (1920-1946) survived the death camp but died very soon afterwards in summer 1946 (via). Klein's last poems were filled with survivors guilt. This one was dedicated to her mother (via).
She left her testimony in form of poetry. Her beautifully handwritten poems were kept meticulously in a notebook, which she entrusted just before being deported to a Gentile friend for safekeeping. Mr. Szabados returned the notebook to her after the war.
 Magda was born in Marghita, Romania, into a middle-class family, as the youngest of eight children. In 1938, she moved with her parents to Oradea and hardly started to enjoy life in a larger city when the anti-Jewish laws were introduced one by one. (via)
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photograph of Holocaust survivor (Theresienstadt and Auschwitz) Nina Klein (born in 1932) with the number 71978 by Beat Mumenthaler via

2 comments:

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    1. This poem gets under the skin, the pain she describes... Heartbreaking.
      Thanks for dropping by, Kenneth!

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