(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.
Franz Werfel's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (The Ram by Franz Werfel )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
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(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
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(4 December 1875 – 29 December 1926)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
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