MY MOTHER REMEMBERS.. Joanna Svensson

 

(In memoriam of The Warsaw Uprising)

The first of August is getting near
With great respect I do recall
That first of August I was only thirteen
A sunny day in 1944

The city that desperate
Screamed and cried for help
The city that had fallen
On its knees to pray

For mercy

To pray for its life, its survival
And its stolen freedom

In the city's crushed and broken face
With bulging, bleeding eyes
The star of hope was lit
The will of survival
Was stronger than ever
What ever it would take

The streets were whispering poems
About the flowers of freedom
That had already put forth its buds
The will to free itself
To free from evil powers
The will to break free
Free from its tormentors

This will was stronger now
Stronger than ever before

The battle, however
Became so uneven
With women, children
Hand in hand
Against stonecold
And ruthless
Armed enemy forces
House by house
Room by room
Eye for eye
To live or die

The battle became heroic
For the town had been promised
Outside help
Though it was left there
Left to its destiny
Left to actually
Bleed to death

But out of its ashes
The spirit to live
The will of survival
Like a Phoenix was rising

People were fighting
For their life and their hope
For their children and their future
For their freedom and their city

So, with reverence
My heart is grieving
When first of August
Is getting close

For we must never
Forget what happened
Pray it will never
Ever happen again!

©® Joanna Svensson
© Private picture Per Joefsson

With all respect to my mother, who this August will turn 91, I hereby publish , as I've promised her, my poem "THE FIRST OF AUGUST" and dedicate it to all those who stood up for their city in the Warsaw Uprising in 1944.
For all of those who fought and defended it
and for those who sacrificed their lives and died for it.
I do hope and pray that the world has gained so much wisdom that this
will never happen again!

Best regards
Joanna