W sypialni (In Bedroom) by Maria Hiszpańska Neumann
Everything is still the same.
Everything is still the same.
And nothing has changed.
The black spectre of the guard
Looming like shadows behind,
Always the same number,
"Heftling" without a name
Waiting for some big event.
Everything is still the same,
Rollcalls, a siren and
The scarlet sunrise
Over the forest.
A heart is waiting for a miracle,
Like in a church,
Dear to me or
Close to a mate equally
Suffering and full of tears.
Everything is still the same,
Lunch, breakfast, fever,
Fast, "weiter," hurry on,
And a full of memories
Soul like a cry
It catches a tired heart
With that cry from afar.
Everything is still the same,
And it seems without end.
Still suffering the harm,
Written in the sand.
The constant lack of space,
And none to the sun flight,
But rollcall to work is still the same
With flooded with lanterns light.
Everything is still the same,
Yet, somewhere there are flames.
Two worlds are wrestling,
Someone has risen fists at garroter,
This longed-for event is approaching,
The world is only over there
But here, it is still the same.
Ravensbrück, 1941
