Franz Werfel (10 September 1890 – 26 August 1945 / Prague)
(An interpretation of a Jewish face)
You've inherited the great ram's features,
The black-wooled one that bred with Jacob's herds.
You found yourself enough in the desert,
On the thistleweed that bent in the wind.
When the shepherd called, you fine animal,
You came skipping, your high heart pounding.
You pranced and pawed the ground with your hooves,
Which now is your tendency to make jokes.
But when the warrior with his steel honor
Climbed his horse and poked out his lance,
You timidly forced yourself back into your fold
And baaed there quietly and without hope.
Comments about this poem (The Ram by Franz Werfel )
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