Moishe Bernshtein

BEREZA NOSTALGIAS

Dedicated to Bereza Kartuzka

My golden Bereza consumed in flames,

You return to me in solitary wondering

With the affection that I keep for my missing mother,

Taken on bloodstained wings.

I see your face Bereza, in gray dawns,

In the happiness and sadness of your curved streets

You didn't lose a minimum of your image

The same melody sounds in my hearings

Here this the market, the synagogue, the public bathroom,

The route like a docile and nice tape

Here is my house, the orchard,

It filled the air with it's aroma of apples and flowers.

The Jews, I knew them for their names and them to me

The mischievous children, reflected in their eyes dreams and marvels

We went for a walk together,

Toward the river, toward the forest

And these greeted us

Grandparents and grandmothers sat down next to the threshold

Telling exaggerated distant passed years

Being young came out to have a good time...

Who died and who was born

And during the night when Bereza collapses in the silence,

Even very late went for a walk couples go down the street

But they are as drunk

It breaks the silence a melody of those that study Talmud.

I would like to continue telling a lot about that legend

How lived Jews, lived and they died

Only to remember them, is very painful, I should conclude

Because it is difficult to tell in a single time

The destruction.

(Year 1973)