Liberation (Bergen-Belsen, April 15, 1945)

You came—angels on roaring tanks.

Faces blackened by fires of battle,

uniforms tattered,

hearts—kind.

Sergeant, remember that sunny day in April,

main road between the barracks,

crowds of people shouting, crying?

You shared with me your ration—an egg, a jar of jam.

I didn't stretch my hands towards your gifts.

I felt like one who, facing God, forgets her needs.