Dresden By John Lars Zwerenz Poem by John Lars Zwerenz

DRESDEN

An ancient jewel of Europe's proud past,
Blasted and bombed into a heap
Of scattered rubble, miles deep,
Has been restored, in part, at last.

The churches, the heights of each baroque palace,
Zwinger, its glory, and the old opera's lights,
The city's regal castle, now stretch to the sky.
No longer the seat of Nazi malice,
After being obliterated from the German eye,
The remainder of the city's old charming nights
Have returned to Saxony despite Hitler's plan
(To raze to the ground all the lovely sights
Given from the hands of God to man.)

And the moon rises over Dresden's stony towers,
Its dappled trees and its nearby hills.
All of its squares despairing, once on fire,
Are now redolent with the fragrant dews of choice daffodils.
The city's new grandeurs, its gardens and its timeless bowers
Now waft fresh perfumes to heaven, as they touch every spire.

Who were we to judge the poor babies sleeping,
Born into a state of atrocious crimes?
Instead of learning nursery rhymes
Their lives were one of death and weeping.

JOHN LARS ZWERENZ