How They Killed My Grandmother

How did they kill my grandmother?
This is how they killed my grandmother:
In the morning a tank
Rolled up to the city bank.

One hundred and fifty Jews of the town.
Weightless
from a whole year's starvation.
Pale,
with the pangs of death upon them.
Came there, carrying bundles.
Polizei and young German soldiers
Cheerfully herded the old men and old women,
And led them, clanking with pots and pans.
Led them
far out of town.

But my diminutive grandmother, Lilliputian,
My seventy-year-old grandmother,
Swore at the Germans,
Cursed like a trooper,

Yelled at them where I was.
She cried: “My grandson's at the front.
Just you dare Lay hands on me.
Those are our guns
that you hear, Bochel!”

Grandmother wept and shouted
And walked.
And then started
Shouting again.
From every window rose a din.
Ivanovs and Andreyevnas leant down,
Sidorovnas and Petrovnas wept:

“Keep it up, Polina Matveyevna!
You just show them. Give it them straight!”
They clamoured:
“What's there to be so scared
About this German enemy!”
And so they decided to kill my grandmother,
While they were still passing through the town.

A bullet kicked up her hair.
A grey lock floated down.
And my grandmother fell to the ground.
That's how they did it to her.

--- Boris Slutsky
(Translated by Daniel Weissbort)