As Father Abraham sat, In ground sololiquy, Musing and in reminiscence, Blood every where, Damn, damn, damn it! , My, my, my! Go, dig, done! Go, dig, done! he cried. Children that would not listen, See blood every where, From the desert to the gas chamber, Children that would not listen, Jacob children could not listen, It could't had been so! My God tired of them, Oh Israel would not hear!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem