Photo by David Clode on Unsplash
Pavel Friedmann
The Butterfly
The last, the very last,
So richly, brightly, dazzlingly yellow.
Perhaps if the sun’s tears would sing
against a white stone…
Such, such a yellow
Is carried lightly ‘way up high.
It went away I’m sure because it wished
to kiss the world goodbye.
For seven weeks I’ve lived in here,
Penned up inside this ghetto
But I have found my people here.
The dandelions call to me
And the white chestnut candles in the court.
Only I never saw another butterfly.
That butterfly was the last one.
Butterflies don’t live in here,
In the ghetto.
Ovu pjesmu je napisao mladi pjesnik Pavel Friedmann 4. lipnja 1942. godine u koncentracionom logoru Theresienstadt (Terezin), najvećem nacističkom sabirnom logoru (getu) u Čehoslovačkoj. On je iz tog logora 29. rujna 1944. prebačen u Auschwitz gdje je ubijen.
Pavel je pjesmu zapisao na komadiću papira i ona je, zajedno s još nekoliko njegovih pjesama, pronađena nakon oslobođenja logora te je donirana Židovskom muzeju u Pragu.
