Evgenii Evtushenko, Babii Yar. September 29, 1961
Translated by George Reavey
No monument stand over Babii Yar.
A drop sheer as a crude gravestone.
I am afraid. Today I am as old in years
as all the Jewish people.
I see myself now a Jew.
Here I plod through ancient Egypt.
Here I perish, crucified, on the cross,
and to this day I bear the scars of nails.
I see myself as Dreyfus.
The Philistine is both informer and judge.
I am behind bars. I am surrounded.
Hounded, spat at, slandered.
Squealing, dainty ladies in flounced Brussels lace
stick their parasols into my face.
I see myself then a young boy in Bialystok.
Blood runs, spilling over the floors.
The bar-room rabble rousers give off a stench of Vodka and onion.
A boot kicks me aside, helpless.
In vain I plead with these pogrom bullies.
While they jeer and shout, “Beat the Yids. Save Russia!”
some grain-marketeer beats up my mother.
O my Russian people! I know you are by nature international.
But those with unclean hands
have often taken in vain your purest name.
I know the goodness of my land.
How vile these anti-Semites- without a qualm
They proudly call themselves
“The Union of the Russian People!”
I see myself as Anne Frank,
limpid as a branch in spring.
And I love. And have no need of empty phrases.
My need is that we look into each other.
How little we can see or smell!
We are denied the leaves, we are denied the sky!
Yet we can do so much – tenderly
embrace in a dark room.
“They’re coming here?” –
“Be not afraid. It is the muffled sound
of spring itself – spring is coming here.
Come then to me. Quick, give your lips.”
“Are they breaking down the door?” –
“No, it is the ice breaking…”
The wild grass rustles over Babii Yar.
The trees look ominous like judges.
Here all things scream in silence,
and, baring my head,
Slowly I feel myself turning gray.
And I myself – one massive, soundless scream
above the thousand thousands buried here-
I am each old man here shot down.
I am every child here shot down.
Nothing within me will ever forget.
Let the “Internationale” thunder
When the last anti-Semite on earth
is buried forever.
In my blood there is no Jewish blood.
In their callous rage all anti-Semites
Must hate me now as if I were a Jew.
And for that reason I am a true Russian!
Source: PBS, Auschwitz: Inside the Nazi State 2004.