When all the women in the transport <br />had their heads shaved <br />four workmen with brooms made of birch twigs <br />swept up <br />and gathered up the hair <br /> <br />Behind clean glass <br />the stiff hair lies <br />of those suffocated in gas chambers <br />there are pins and side combs <br />in this hair <br /> <br />The hair is not shot through with light <br />is not parted by the breeze <br />is not touched by any hand <br />or rain or lips <br /> <br />In huge chests <br />clouds of dry hair <br />of those suffocated <br />and a faded plait <br />a pigtail with a ribbon <br />pulled at school <br />by naughty boys. <br /> <br /> <br />Translated by Adam Czerniawski<br /><br />Tadeusz Ròzewicz<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/pigtail/
