Once the first infant’s taken by the heel

And swung by laughing soldiers so his brain

Bursts like a fruit against the ghetto wall,

The name of the Father is not named again;

Then we demand the Judge, who may not save

But metes out the reward and punishment.

We stop petitioning when we observe

The peaceful old age of the commandant,

Teaching us that we must be satisfied

With a Recorder who lets nothing slip—

Till human bones that human teeth have chewed

Or throat-slit mummies in a frozen Alp

Resurface to remind us of the million

Victims that decompose for each preserved,

And that the mute Accuser is the one

God we might still believe in or deserve.