Death & Concentration Camp Reflections, 1989 and 1992 respectively

DIFFICULT WORK, 1944

Butcher at the slaughterhuose
             fondled the muzzles of two calves,
See how lovely their eyes.
He loves the calves best,
             how difficult his work.
But we need their tender flesh for veal.

Doctor at the camp entrance
           patted the heads of two small children,
                gazed at their eyes.
See how beautiful their features.
'Look!' he points to the smoking furnace chimney.
'There went your mummy and daddy!'
He loves the children best,
               how difficult his work.
But we need them for medical experiment,
                                their bones for soap.

PICTURES FROM RAVENSBRÜCK

Mothers and Daughters of Ravensbrück!
You bore the standard for Womankind with every stripe
                                     against your splendid miserable bodies.
Know, that not a slap nor blow went unnoticed by the eye of God's heart,
                                     a heart so tender for Womankind.
Would that I could reach back in time and scoop you all, all into my
                                  timeless embrace and kiss away your horrid wounds,
                                 your wretched despair and humiliation, and your grief!

One has only to look at your emaciated, brutilized forms to ponder -
How great the evil which can set about reducing a woman to this!
Until one looks at the bestiality in the eyes and faces of your guards -
How still greater the evil which would reduce a woman to this!

Khadija

Mother of orphans, refuge of women denied their nobility,

had Mary herself been dressed in Arab finery

she'd not have been more merciful.

A widow's wealth more measured in heart than coin or cravans -

God's grace in her! she slept with the troubles of others

in the confort of her house mending broken lives.

Noble Khadija, jewel of Mecca! in your arms

you cradled even him your spouse,

the master of a great legacy.

Bearing the unbearable for his sake, at his side, mirror of his soul -

he carried in himself the destiny of a great people

as you carried in yourself the weight of his own.

Khadija!  I hear you within,

Kha . . . rising straight and forceful, piller of strength;

Dij . . . diving into the very depths of love;

and Ah . . . bearing up joy and favor for those who have none.

Khadija!  Mother of potential wealth, satisfier of need,

God's gift to a man who was a gift to the world.

Khadija the Great, rarely heard of,

But known, known well in the hearts of those who recognize

what a miracle is womankind.

S. Inayat-Chisti, July 1986