The Excuse

Here in Majdanek,
in the normalised hell of Majdanek,
whose chimneys have long since cooled,
whose last gout of smoke is a distant memory,
the dust still rises...
 
Here in the tenements next door,
we open the morning curtains
on the normalised hell of Majdanek,  
Here in the darkness of my room,
I bear witness once again;
liver-spotted hands guide our film 
through the teeth of the gate.
     
Outside, the electric for the trams
is like barbed wire on each and every conscience;
the eyes of all 
who’ve passed their three score years and ten,
must be doubted
the eyes that watched so much yet saw nothing,
 
our excuse is a cancer
in us all …
 
The film comes to an end;
the last frame burns to nought
and your dust
swirls and falls through the light beam…

 

 

Esgus

Esgus

Yma’n Majdanek,
yn uffern normal Majdanek,
lle mae’r cyrn wedi hen oeri,
a chwydfa’r mwg olaf yn atgof pell,
mae’r llwch yn dal i godi...
 
Yma’n y fflatiau cyfagos,
agorwn gyrtansia’r bore
ar uffern normal Majdanek,    
Yma’n nhywyllwch fy ‘stafell,
dwi’n tystiolaethu unwaith eto;
mae blodau’r fynwent ar y dwylo
sy’n dirwyn y ffilm drwy ddanedd yr olwynion.
   
Tu allan, lle mae’r trydan i‘r tramiau
fel weiren bigog ar bob cydwybod,
mae lle i amau llygaid pawb
dros oed rhyw addewid,
a wyliodd gymaint heb weled dim,
ac mae’r esgus yn gansar
ymhob un ohonom …
 
Daw’r ffilm i ben;
mae’r llun yn llosgi’n ddim
ac mae dy lwch
yn chwrlïo-ddisgyn drwy’r goleuni…