St. Bartholomew's Church Poem by Leo Yankevich

(Szobiszowice/Petersdorf)

1241

Stone by stone
in the name of the Lord,
with blood and bone,
with lance and sword,

the Templars build
their little church,
while in the field
the Mongols lurch,

and blowflies buzz
above the hill
of what once was
another kill.

Two arrows wan
a slanted eye;
a young noyan
prepares to die.


1945

Centuries
have passed. We thank
our destinies
no Soviet tank

or errant round
in one hit razes
it to the ground.
Sunlight blazes

upon its steeple,
even as cries
from local people
fill the skies.

Heaped in carts near
its buttressed walls,
they've only fear
to break their falls.