Holocaust poems by Miklos Radnoti

Miklos Radnoti translations of Holocaust poems

These are my translations of four poems by the great Holocaust poet Miklós Radnóti. They were written on what became his death march as Nazi soldiers herded Jewish concentration camp prisoners away from the advancing Russian armies.

Postcard 1
by Miklós Radnóti
loose translation by Michael R. Burch

Out of Bulgaria, the great wild roar of the artillery thunders,
resounds on the mountain ridges, rebounds, then ebbs into silence
while here men, beasts, wagons and imagination all steadily increase;
the road whinnies and bucks, neighing; the maned sky gallops;
and you are eternally with me, love, constant amid all the chaos,
glowing within my conscience ― incandescent, intense.
Somewhere within me, dear, you abide forever ―
still, motionless, mute, like an angel stunned to silence by death
or a beetle hiding in the heart of a rotting tree.

Postcard 2
by Miklós Radnóti
loose translation by Michael R. Burch

A few miles away they're incinerating
the haystacks and the houses,
while squatting here on the fringe of this pleasant meadow,
the shell-shocked peasants quietly smoke their pipes.
Now, here, stepping into this still pond, the little shepherd girl
sets the silver water a-ripple
while, leaning over to drink, her flocculent sheep
seem to swim like drifting clouds.

Postcard 3
by Miklós Radnóti
loose translation by Michael R. Burch

The oxen dribble bloody spittle;
the men pass blood in their piss.
Our stinking regiment halts, a horde of perspiring savages,
adding our aroma to death's repulsive stench.

Postcard 4
by Miklós Radnóti
loose translation by Michael R. Burch

I toppled beside him ― his body already taut,
tight as a string just before it snaps,
shot in the back of the head.
"This is how you’ll end too; just lie quietly here,"
I whispered to myself, patience blossoming from dread.
"Der springt noch auf," the voice above me jeered;
I could only dimly hear
through the congealing blood slowly sealing my ear.

This was his final poem, written October 31, 1944 near Szentkirályszabadja, Hungary. "Der springt noch auf" means something like "That one is still twitching."

Keywords/Tags: Radnoti, Miklos, Holocaust, Racism, Antisemitism, Genocide, Ethnic Cleansing, Death Camp, Death March, Concentration Camp, Forced Labor, Slave Labor, Torture, Inhumanity, Cruelty, Hungary, Hungarian, Bulgaria, Yugoslavia, Nazi, Fascist, Fascists, Racists