Текст песни A Survivor From Warsaw, Op. 46 - Arnold Schönberg
I
cannot
remember
everything.
I
must
have
been
unconscious
most
of
the
time.
I
remember
only
the
grandiose
moment
when
they
all
started
to
sing,
as
if
prearranged,
the
old
prayer
they
had
neglected
for
so
many
years
- the
forgotten
creed!
But
I
have
no
recollection
how
I
got
underground
to
live
in
the
sewers
of
Warsaw
for
so
long
a
time.
The
day
began
as
usual:
Reveille
when
it
still
was
dark.
"
Get
out!"
Whether
you
slept
or
whether
worries
kept
you
awake
the
whole
night.
You
had
been
separated
from
your
children,
from
your
wife,
from
your
parents.
You
don't
know
what
happened
to
them...
How
could
you
sleep?
The
trumpets
again
- "
Get
out!
The
sergeant
will
be
furious!"
They
came
out;
some
very
slowly,
the
old
ones,
the
sick
ones;
some
with
nervous
agility.
They
fear
the
sergeant.
They
hurry
as
much
as
they
can.
In
vain!
Much
too
much
noise,
much
too
much
commotion!
And
not
fast
enough!
The
Feldwebel
shouts:
"
Achtung!
Stilljestanden!
Na
wird's
mal!
Oder
soll
ich
mit
dem
Jewehrkolben
nachhelfen?
Na
jut;
wenn
ihrs
durchaus
haben
wollt!"
The
sergeant
and
his
subordinates
hit
(everyone):
young
or
old,
(strong
or
sick),
quiet,
guilty
or
innocent
...
It
was
painful
to
hear
them
groaning
and
moaning.
I
heard
it
though
I
had
been
hit
very
hard,
so
hard
that
I
could
not
help
falling
down.
We
all
on
the
(ground)
who
could
not
stand
up
were
(then)
beaten
over
the
head...
I
must
have
been
unconscious.
The
next
thing
I
heard
was
a
soldier
saying:
"
They
are
all
dead!"
Whereupon
the
sergeant
ordered
to
do
away
with
us.
There
I
lay
aside
half
conscious.
I
had
become
very
still
- fear
and
pain.
Then
I
heard
the
sergeant
shouting:
"Abzählen!"
They
start
slowly
and
irregularly:
one,
two,
three,
four
- "
Achtung!"
The
sergeant
shouted
again,
"
Rascher!
Nochmals
von
vorn
anfange!
In
einer
Minute
will
ich
wissen,
wieviele
ich
zur
Gaskammer
abliefere!
Abzählen!"
They
began
again,
first
slowly:
one,
two,
three,
four,
became
faster
and
faster,
so
fast
that
it
finally
sounded
like
a
stampede
of
wild
horses,
and
(all)
of
a
sudden,
in
the
middle
of
it,
they
began
singing
the
Shema
Yisroel.
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