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Wisse
100
Since poetry for Sutzkever is born of the actual, his ghetto po
ems must also confront their given situation. Almost every poem
of this period is precisely dated, the situation and vocabulary rivet
ing the art to its concrete origin in fact. On August 30, 1941, the
poet escaped a round-up of Jews by hiding in a coffin. There
emerged a tight narrow poem of defiance:
I am lying in this coffin
as I would lie
in stiff wooden clothing.
This could be a small boat
on dangerous waves,
this could be cradle.
And here,
where bodies have been taken
from time
I call out to you, sister,
and you hear me calling
in your distance.
What is suddenly moving in this coffin—
an unexpected body?
You come.
I recognize the pupils of your eyes,
Your breath,
Your light.
So this is the rule:
here today,
somewhere else tomorrow,
and in this coffin now
as in stiff wooden clothing
my speech
still moves into song.
Vilna,
August 31, 1941