Holocaust Cantata: Songs from the Camps
Music by Donald McCullough
English lyrics and readings by Denny Clark
Published by Hinshaw Music, Inc.

The prisoner rises, straw rustles ‘round him,
Poor slave he rises, shell of a man,
Has coffee only, has nothing more
Because today’s bread ate he yesterday.

Our thoughts so somber, our hearts so mournful,
The time so hopeless, so full of dread
Of fires burning, the iron furnace,
That while alive our spirit’s flame burns out.

Fires are burning, fires do burn
That while alive our spirit’s flame burns out.

Singing Saved My Life
Gliwice, Camp #1003
Dennis Martin, Reader

As early as the fall of 1940 we established a quartet …

Song of the Polish Prisoners
Buchenwald (1944)
Tune: J. Kropinski
Words: K. Wójtowicz

Oh, what are these chains and these handcuffs to us?
Oh, what is this prison to us?
The strength of our spirits will conquer the tortures;
The suffering cannot o’erpower us!

Refrain:
When we are enwrapped in the banner of Poland,
Our strength is a dangerous foe.
We’ll not spare our lives, no, we’ll not spare our blood
To raise Poland up from her grave!

So many have withered in dark cells for us,
So many have perished for us.
To win or to die, oh, what else have we left?
We’ll not let them rule over us!
Refrain

The Execution of the Twelve
Auschwitz
Aaron Magill, Reader

On July 19, 1943, twelve prisoners were hung at the roll call square …

In Buchenwald
Buchenwald (1944)
Tune: J. Kropinski
Words: K. Wójtowicz

In Buchenwald the birch trees rustle sadly,
As my heart sways languishing in woe.
Then my soul sings a quiet song of pining,
On the wind my song is sent back home.

Then my song beckons to my country,
Land made fertile by her patriots’ blood!
I see the graves that scar the death-marked roadside,
Yes, I see them in dark dreams each night.

My song once told the stories of her forests,
Of her streams that once caressed me whole,
But now it sings of strange rocks that surround me,
Of cold skies that mock, deride my soul.

Then my song beckons to my country,
Sing of suffering ‘round the fire’s hearth!
Remembering all those prisoners of torment,
Dreaming in a world of wires and bars
In Buchenwald.

A State of Separation
Irena Augustyniska Kafka
Christopher Palestrant, Reader
Nathan Sommers, Reader
Nancy Caporaso, Reader
Mary Hannah Klontz, Reader

On September 1, 1939, German forces invaded Poland …

The Train
Brzezinka (1944)
Tune: Composer unknown
Words: K. Zywulska
Steven Combs, Baritone

Already rolling, puffing and blowing,
Already hearing the clatter taking her away,
Eyes last meet, gazing, hands gesture, waving,
Unspoken silent sorrow.
Running still beside the train in fool’s futility,
Farewell my love! Remember me!

Goodbye to eyes that once caressed me,
Farewell to love that owned my heart,
The dark hour’s on us, our fate is sealed,
I must forget you! Farewell my love!

Singing from Birth to Death
Brzezinka
Matthew Norwood, Reader

In the camp, songs accompanied a person from birth until death …

The Striped Ones
A female prisoner song originally written in the
Pasiak Prison in Warsaw which later became
the Women’s Anthem of Majdanek (1943)
Tune: Folk Melody
Words: Z. Karpinska

Their clothes veil the pride that now slumbers inside,
The boats* on their feet murmur sighs,
They’re brothers and sisters, they’re husbands and wives,
The striped ones, the prisoners marked with stripes.
They’re brothers and sisters, they’re husbands and wives,
The striped ones, the prisoners marked with stripes.

The watch towers and sentinels, the barbed wire and gates
That cut off the world from their sight,
Cannot quell the hope that so patiently waits
For freedom to find its way inside.
Cannot quell the hope that so patiently waits
For freedom to find its way inside.

This time is the time when the day lives in night,
When fate’s hand knows no tender plight,
Let nothing divide us, let all here unite,
For we are the women marked with stripes.
Let nothing divide us, let all here unite,
For we are the women marked with stripes.
* boats = wooden shoes

Stoi nocka, czas ucieka, kwitną bzy
Kwitną bzy
A za siódma góra, rzeka jesteś ty
Jesteś ty
Stoi nocka, czas ucieka – wojna trwa
Wojna trwa
Za drutami, za drutami czekam ja
Czekam ja

A ode mnie, ach do ciebie długo tak
Długo tak
Nie doleci, nie dofrunie żaden ptak
Żaden ptak
Stoi nocka, czas ucieka – wojna trwa
Wojna trwa
Za drutami, za drutami zdycham ja
Zdycham ja.

There’s No Life Like Life at Auschwitz
Auschwitz
Timothy Hoyt, Reader

The pump station served as a place for meetings for us …

Tempo di Tango
Buchenwald (1944)
Tune: W. Gazinski
Miriam Bolkosky, Cellist
Robert Lamar Sims, Pianist

Letter to Mom
Gusen
Beth Lilienstein, Reader

I miss you, and I worry about you …

Song of Days Now Gone
Buchenwald (1943)
Tune: J. Kropinski
Words: J. Kropinski
Angela Powell, Soprano
Sara Murphy, Mezzo-soprano

Cello, play the sad song,
Song of agony and woe,
Song of bonds that still hold on,
Song of days now gone.
Let these memories gently fly
To their native countryside,
Through our sorrow, pain and tears,
Let the song play on.

Dreams of yore will not return,
Nor the reveries that burned,
Nor the nectar of sweet lips,
Nor these longing eyes!
Cello, play the sad song,
Song of pining, pain and tears,
Song remembering dreams of love
And of days now gone.

Play! Play! Cello, play!
Song of days now gone.

Even When God Is Silent
Michael Horvit
Text: Author unknown
Published by Transcontinental Music Publications

I believe in the sun even when it is not shining.
I believe in love even when feeling it not.
I believe in God even when God is silent.

 

A Child’s Journey
Michael Horvit
Poetry: Yaakov Barzilai
Translated from the original Hebrew by Shulamit Friedman
Published by Transcontinental Music Publications

An Accidental Meeting

Fifty years ago
when all the trains
traveled toward one destination
my mother introduced me
to God
He joined us—on our journey.

I Once Had A Friend

I once had a friend
a symbol of cleanliness
who even defeated the lice.
One day,
he was taken to the shower
and never again
did I see him
clean.

There Are No Stars in The Sky

“Why are there no stars in the sky?”
The children of God inquired,
“ And why even lamps do not shine there either?”
The children repeatedly wondered.
“ And if there are no stars
or lamps
then, how can God see
when we wash in the shower?”
“ He does not see in the dark”
the angels responded.
And it was the truth,
when the faucets were open
that God did not see
they did not have water
And never again
did the children ask
“ Why?”

 

Is Not a Flower a Mystery?
Donald McCullough
Text: Rabbi Chaim Stern
Published by Hinshaw Music, Inc.

Is not a flower a mystery no flower can explain?
Is not God the growing, the pattern which
has no end and is never quite the same?
Is not God in the heart that sees it and weeps for beauty?
Why, then, God, this mystery:
that bombs fall
and the sprays kill
and the flames rise
and the children go up in smoke?
Why is there still a flower to remind us of You?
Why does the sun still burn to give us life?
How do we still turn to You?
Why cannot we help but turn to You,
But why, why do we turn to you so late?

We Remember Them
To Mae and David
Donald McCullough
Text: Author unknown
Published by Hinshaw Music, Inc.

In the rising of the sun and in its going down, we remember them.
In the blowing of the wind and in the chill of winter, we remember them.

In the opening of buds and in the rebirth of spring, we remember them.
In the blueness of the sky and in the warmth of summer, we remember them.

In the rustling of the leaves and in the beauty of autumn, we remember them.
In the beginning of the year and when it ends, we remember them.

When we are weary and in need of strength, we remember them.
When we are lost and sick at heart, we remember them.
When we have joys we yearn to share, we remember them.
So as long as we live they too shall live,
For they are now a part of us as we remember them.