Poem by
Boris (Lyusik) DEKHTYAR
Submitted
by Maya LISAK in Florida
Translated from Russian Courtesy of Boris
Feldblyum, © 2003
I am typing these lines from pages
written by the amazing handwriting of my mother, Roza
PRIVEN. Tears don't let me write [clearly].
Mother has been gone for three years. She would be
so happy to see the Lyubar [web] site. Thank you.
I'd like to send you a poem by Boris (Lyusik)
DEKHTYAR. I remember he came to us from
Autozavod and he and Mother edited it. Mother
translated in into Ukrainian for a Lyubar
newspaper. We lived in Nizhny Novgorod (Gorky)
then. We came to America (Florida) in 1994. Mother
lived with us for six years. We visited Israel
with her, where we met with Perl KANTOR
and Sema IOFFE. They took us in Zion to see
the plaque in memory of Lyubar residents. We will
not forget it.
13 September 1991
When we walked down a
narrow path
That autumn morning,
The grass dropped morning dew
As its tears.
And then as we walked
through a dusty field
To that tragic forest,
Pieces of mother earth
Bonded with our shoes.
I shuddered from the
thought
That we carry on our shoes
Our relatives' dust
Along with the soil.
The wheat is growing
tall
In this field soaked with blood
Caused by the monsters,
Traitors of our land.
When we finally came to
that place
Where our relatives lie,
My fingers pressed into fists
And my lips were shaking and going numb.
Their strength drained,
The old people fell on the pile of earth,
Shaking quietly,
Just touching each other's hands.
The lines [on the
monument] stated predictably
About the killing of "Soviet citizens".
But the beasts murdered everyone
Only because they were Jews.
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