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A Poem Commemorating Rozsa's Life
A Poem Commemorating Rozsa's Life
Rachel
by Rachel (Blustein)
רחל
הן דמה בדמי זורם
הן קולה בי רן
רחל הרועה צאן לבן
רחל אם האם
ועל כן לי הבית צר
והעיר זרה
כי היה מתנופף סודרה
לרוחות המידבר
ועל כן את דרכי אוחז
בביטחה כזאת
כי שמורים ברגלי זיכרונות
מני אז מני אז!
Rachel
by Rachel (Blustein)
For her blood in my blood runs
Rachel, the shepherdess of Laban
Rachel, mother of all Moms
Thus the city is a stranger,
And the house narrow
For her scarf, like an arrow
Waved in the dessert winds
Thus my path I walk
with certainty, for
My feet hold memories
Of then, of before...
(* Translated by DeAnna L'am)
Generously shared by DeAnna L'am:
The Red Thread of our Blood Line connects me to my Mother, my Grandmother, my Great Grandmother, and all my Ancestors.
This tile honors Rozsa Izsák, my Great Grandmother, who died in the concentration camp of Transnistria, Romania, together with 6 of her 8 children, whose names I do not know.
One of her daughters - my Grandmother Serena - survived the camp with my Mother, Eva, who was imprisoned there from the age of 10 to the age of 14.
The words that most express what I feel as I symbolically wrap the Red Thread around my wrist, and the wrists of my Mother’s Line, are the words of Russian-Israeli Poet, Rachel: “For Her Blood In My Blood Runs”
Rozsa’s picture hang on her daughter’s wall throughout my childhood. Since my Grandmother, Serena, died in Jerusalem, age 92, her mother’s picture has been hanging on my wall here in Sonoma County.
May their memory be blessed!
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