A. S. reports on the situation of 8. april 1943

(Alfred Sachs)

[Friedl is in hiding with four-month old Tom, in a home for unwed mothers in Perigueux]

Are you still living under the old illusion

that I’m acting as before,

and sending you, as usual,

poems in a letter?

By now I'm tired of it all

and I bring them to you in person.

No matter how deadly the heat,

so bad that one sticks to one’s seat,

or that it’s raining buckets,

or the wind is freezing my cheeks,

I hurry into the barracks

where I’ll find you.

You sit in your room. as ever slim,

into which, truly, no evil talk

can come from the outside;

that's why you are banned to indoors

while your boy’s place

is outside on the lawn.

But if your paint brush causes you pain,

exchange your paintbrush

for your gentle pens.

But your needle will also do,

so that, beyond all reproach,

a work of art appears.

If you're worried about your infant,

because he fell so hard on his tummy,

don't complain just yet;

and don't wake the little one from his sleep,

even if he chose impertinently

to soil his diaper.

And if you feel the urge to weave,

and if you want to lift yourself

sky-high from this life,

then before your hands get too old,

we want still to see

the end of our present situation.

But until then, remain gentle,

so that all things may stay the same,

just as it is now in the village.

Remain true to your father,

let him rejoice through your noble deeds,

you fortunate maiden.

back