It's November, I feel the war is almost over,
Poland will find peace again. But the war has taken me,
for I only feel the blackness of sorrow,
all of my strength is falling apart.
Oh, my spirit is falling, falling like the purple sunset,
My beloved,
I'm fading in the cradle of your prayers
All my soul is hungry for strength,
the sweat under my side
and the thorns of confusion and heaviness
are only growing stronger.
Keep me awake, dear.
Tell me about when we met, when you
smiled with curiosity when you first saw me.
Tell me about the time when we hid and laughed
behind the schoolyard,
right by the flower fields where we played hide and seek.
The time when our souls only sung with power and laughter.
Now beneath our old house, our home, I can't hide anymore.
I can't hide the hurt, the pain, the sorrow, but I do know
the flames of grace burns over and over, so don't you cry.
The psalms we use to sing, they also heal, yes, they also heal.
So remember me,
and the star I gave you, for then I'll be with you,
near the altar of your heart,
by the silver rivers of memories and love, because then
I'll always be your hero and heart,
your wildfire within.
This is written from the perspective of Jewish refugee to his beloved.
