A Violin at Auschwitz
He stood in the showers
Rank chamber of notoriety
Cocked his solemn chin, began
Bach’s mighty ‘Chaconne’, a solitary violin
The notes spun from bow and finger
Caressed the slick-sickened walls, soothed
He moved down the corridors
Pied fiddler, musterer of souls
They listened, the music lived, they remembered, they came
Enchanted, by vibrant, commanding cadences, ever more insistent.
Melodies spiraling like a rainbow of fanged butterflies
Shredding the gloom, lifting the doomed.
Once, they had been forced to play this
Play what they loved, whilst their loved ones
splintered their nails in torment
Death livored, nauseated
Harmony had died then even as it was given life
He played their tune, flawlessly, emphatically.
The age-crippled doors swung open
Phrasing quickened, igniting the frost-rimed air
Blistering the cold afternoon
Furrowing into the chill earth
Wrenched a sob from every breathless throat
as realisation set in, this was exorcism
My eyes filled, spellbound
He was setting them free
My God... He was setting them free
He ripped away the horrific bars with pure beauty
They followed, they had no choice
A cacophony of shades, fanned out behind him
Out down the track, barbed-wire corridor, rutted, rusted rails
I tasted salt on my lips
Pearls of silent emotion leaked,
trickled steadily over lash, down cheek
I tasted them all, defiantly, every damn one.
Something inside broke away
‘Arbeit Macht Frei’, Work Brings Freedom
This, once falsely promised, now redeemed, howled
outward. Through hated gate, into the winter hinterland
The music released, the fallen, the memories
He tore it all from the jealous clutches of despair
lanced the atrocity with tempered sound
This isn’t merely music, not at all
It isn’t barefaced, unadulterated, humanity
This transcends. The past existing in the present
It is the voice of the shepherd
The song of seraphim
It demands to be followed
As I write, a single tear falls unashamedly
onto the verse, blurs a word, pools
I fancy I can see, in its reflection,
millions of upturned faces
Once dour, tortured, faces, faces that can finally smile
And sink, at last, into the dampening paper, heading home.
© 2005 Kahdoosch
posted by Kahdoosch at 7:04 PM
6 Comments:
This poem is inspired by a film:
http://www.bbc.co.uk/music/classicaltv/holocaust/
Produced as a memorial to the prisoners of Auschwitz.
It was quite, quite, astounding.
The last piece was played by the virtuoso violinist, Maxim Vengerov. JS Bach's 'Chaconne', a performance that I simply don't have the words to describe (although I tried here).
The poem has a very strong emotional effect on me. I have no idea if it is the poem itself or the memory of Vengerov's amazing gift to those he never knew. If this poem gives the unsuspecting reader a small fraction of the emotional release that Vengerov's 'Chaconne' gave then I might feel worthy of the attempt.
Finally, if you can get hold of a DVD of this film I urge you to do so. Everything about it is pure art, pure heart. The music, all the music but particularly the Vengerov's finale.
It's well worth whatever you pay for it.
It truly does transcend.
Kah
Hi K,
Wow!
On its own, this poem is a masterpiece; even if I didn't know anything about Auschwitz, I would still get it. Excellent. What a talent you have dear sir. smile
As regards whether the poem is emotionally evocative, personally I experience everything as ideas. So when I read a poem, a book, or look at art, it is never emotional, always about ideas. The idea evoked here for me is Freedom which, incidentally, I wrote an article about in my blog yesterday.
[[Once, they had been forced to play this
Play what they loved, whilst their loved ones
splintered their nails in torment
Death livored, nauseated
Harmony had died then even as it was given life
He played their tune, flawlessly, emphatically.]]
This reminds me of the film, The Shawshank Redemption with the tagline: "Fear can hold you prisoner, hope can set you free." In case you haven't seen it, it is about Andy Dufresne, played by Tim Robbins, who has been imprisoned for a crime he didn't commit; and how he never gives up hope. In his mind he is already free and so he had a lot of freedom; and he escapes in the end.
There is a scene where Andy locks himself in the warden's office and plays classical music to the prisoners. Most of the prisoners don't even know classical music exists. At that moment the prisoners experience freedom that transcends all forms of human limitations. I believe freedom is our nature. This poem reminds me of that scene.
Thanks again Kahdoosch for sharing a truly beautiful poem.
All my love,
Enocia
ps: this is the article I wrote
yesterday: Freedom Speaks
EJ, I have watched that movie "The Shawshank Redemption" lots of times. I truly love it.
Of course any movie with Morgan Freeman in it I love.
You have talked me into seeing about the DVD now. WOOHOO!!
This is a masterpiece Kahd. I truly love this piece. One of my favorites by the way..
Great job. The pic is also wonderful.
I'm humbled by your kindness yet again.
This poem kind of tripped me up, came out of left field. Txs for helping me get a handle on it.
I think the sentiment is partly about freedom, Enocia (btw loved the piece on your site) and I see the shaweshank in it (fine film). Also, there is a dimension of legacy. In such places there are/were perpetrators and victims. The legacy of them almost entirely barren. Such exorcisms banish the intentions of the barbaric and replace them with a feeling of survival. The 'spit in yer eye' survival of those forced into adversity, the survival of the human spirit no matter what some try to do to it. The attrocious becomes replaced by the sublime.
Whenever I think of Auschwitz now I think of the Chaconne not the infirmary. That was Vengerov's gift to me. I'm sure that those who survived the place will take different solace from it. Maybe the solace that a billion eyes gave water for the them and theirs. Washing away the reich that no longer lives.
Iman, I have published (poetry) in limited form, local circulation pamphlets from writers groups, etc. Nothing really of note. I was thinking of arranging some into a from of logic. something like the stream of perception (sight without description-internal and external narrative-etc, but I'm not organised enough to get it together. Maybe, something for the future.
Again thanks kind readers, much appreciated.
Amazing and inspiring! Your use of words creates a picture I will not soon forget.
I just found this moving poem while googling for a silk bag for my violin!!!
I run Maxim's fan website at maximvengerovfans.co.uk and I would love to either post this poem on the site, or provide a link to this page on your blog.
Would that be OK?
Many thanks
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