There are ghosts tonight in the town we occupy;
They congregate within the synagogue.
The night must be long for the herrenvolk nearby
When they forget ghosts breaking through the fog.
There are prayers said again in the holy place;
Softly they unlock the doors of the past.
Is this your miracle, O Lord, whose kindly grace
Keeps my people’s faith and courage steadfast?
There is nothing to be seen, nothing but the shame
Of desecration, the cold and shivering skies.
But the ghosts are there and their prayers are a flame
Bearing the memories of those who turned their eyes.

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