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#sonia weitz – @ukdamo on Tumblr
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Damian: posts feature the pen and the pixel

@ukdamo / ukdamo.tumblr.com

Gay guy in England's north west. Retired Forensic Learning Disability nurse. Travel: Photography: Music: Literature
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Victory

Sonia Weitz
I danced with you that one time only. 
How sad you were, how tired, lonely . . . 
You knew that they would “take” you soon . . .
So when your bunk-mate played a tune 
you whispered: “little one, let us dance, 
We may not have another chance.” 
To grasp this moment . . . sense the mood; 
Your arms around me felt so good 
The ugly barracks disappeared 
There was no hunger . . . and no fear. 
Oh what a sight, just you and I, 
My lovely father (once big and strong) 
And me, a child . . . condemned to die.
I thought: how long 
     before the song 
          must end 
There are no tools 
     to measure love 
          and only fools 
Would fail 
     to scale 
          your victory. 

Sonia Weitz was a young teenager in Poland when, in 1941, she and her family were forced to enter the Kraków ghetto. Her mother was taken from the ghetto and sent to the Belzec death camp, where she was killed. In 1943, Sonia, her older sister Blanca, and their father were sent to Płaszów, a slave labor camp south of Kraków.

During this time, Weitz kept a diary and wrote poetry. After the Holocaust, she continued to write as a way to cope with her emotions in the aftermath of the intense trauma she had experienced. In her book I Promised I Would Tell, she writes:

Although men and women lived in separate parts of the camp, the two groups did manage to have contact with each other. For example, on one occasion I was sent to the ghetto with a cleanup detail. While there I found a jacket, a precious warm jacket. I smuggled it back to Płaszów to my father. It was comforting to think that the jacket would keep him warm that winter. On another day, I sneaked into my father’s barracks on the other side of the barbed wire fence. While I was there, I met a boy who was about my age—14 or 15. The boy was playing a harmonica, an offence punishable by death. My father and I listened to the music, and my father said to me, “You and I never had a chance to dance together” . . . and so we danced. It is such a precious image, a bizarre and beautiful gift.

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For Holocaust Remembrance Day

Sonia Weitz - born in Krakow, Holocaust survivor.

Come, take this giant leap with me

into the other world . . . the other place

where language fails and imagery defies,

denies man’s consciousness . . . and dies

upon the altar of insanity.

Come, take this giant leap with me

into the other world . . . the other place

and trace the eclipse of humanity . . .

where children burned while mankind stood by

and the universe has yet to learn why

. . . has yet to learn why.

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