Poem+that+tells+the+plot+of+the+novel

My name is Eliezer. I had a wonderful family. Together my mother, father, two older sisters, And little Tzipora, lived a harmonious life running a little shop.

Life was so peaceful. Moshe the Beadle and I were one. Together we studied the Talmud, hopeful, Of coming closer to God.

And then the deportation of foreigners came. Moshe had to leave. He came back all the same, Except silenced with a bullet wound to his leg.

Listen! Moshe pleaded. Listen! Yet we did not.

And then the Germans came. They seemed so nice. Even gave chocolates to Madame Kahn, And so the optimists rejoiced.

And then the ghetto came. Two were set up. Little did we know, We were going to be deported too.

Listen! Moshe had once pleaded. Listen! Yet we did not.

And then the cattle cars to Birkenau came. On that car with me was a woman, Madame Schachter. She had gone insane, A temper we couldn’t tame.

Fire! Jews, I see a fire! She yelled. Fire! Yet we did not listen.

And then Birkenau finally came. We were separated, men and women. I saw the fires and realized Madame Schachter was right, Writhing bodies burning in front of my eyes.

And then slave labour in Buna came. By then I was not Eliezer, but A-7713. We worked in an electrical factory my father and I, And we hated the beatings of Idek the Kapo.

Fire! Jews, I see a fire! Madame Schachter had yelled. Fire! Yet we did not listen.

And then the selection came. We ran as hard as we could, that German Jew told us so. I passed the first test greatly relieved, By my father did not, he awaited the second selection.

And then evacuation came. My father thankfully passed the second selection. The Russians were getting closer, But we had to run, block by block, away from the camp.

Faster you swine! Yelled the SS Faster! For once, we listened.

And then rest finally came. My father and I had survived the firing shots of the night. In that shed we all lie, silent, but I hear Juliek’s call, And I hear his last concert, I listen to that beautiful fragment of Beethoven’s concerto.

And then Buchenwald came. We survived the murderous train ride. But father, poor father was taken by dysentery. He was delirious, and lied in the hospital bed.

Quiet over there! The officer yelled. Quiet! But my father did not listen.

And then the death of my father came. He was beat by that officer, barely alive. His last word was my name, Eliezer I wanted to weep, but no tears came, none could come again.

And then Liberation finally came. I remember it was April 10, 1945.The Americans had saved us, Yet all we wanted was food.

I finally looked my self in the mirror. In that mirror, I saw a corpse, damaged beyond every type of repair. But I had persevered all the pain. To this day I still remember every moment of this terrible memory. ..

Listen! Moshe had once pleaded. Listen! Yet we did not.

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