God Hid His Face
Selected Poems of RAJZEL ZYCHLINSKY
 
Perhaps

Perhaps 
today I saw Dr. Mengele 
drinking a glass of beer 
in Tel Aviv, 
at the sea – 
a pair of blue, sharp eyes 
suddenly flashed at me 
a cold stare of knives. 
A chuckle manufactured and fake, 
suddenly stirred the horror awake – 
left, right, left, right, 
left! 
To the gas! 
Courteously he introduced himself 
to those at the next table: 
his ancestors were English, Scots, 
and on his mother's side 
he is "Deutsch." 
I fled the cool terrace 
and walked a long time in the heat 
at the sea – 
and heard the billows repeat: 
Deutsch, Deutsch, Deutsch.

 
Translated by Aaron Kramer 

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