Auschwitz

I died with a hundred others,
I died when I was a child:
Passed through the chimney,
And now I'm in the wind.

In Auschwitz there was snow:
The smoke rose slowly
In the cold winter day
And now I'm in the wind.

In Auschwitz many people,
But only a great silence;
It's strange: I still can't
smile here in the wind.

I ask how can man
kill his brother,
Yet we are millions
in dust here in the wind.

The cannon still thunders,
The human beast is still not satisfied
with blood,
And the wind still carries us.

I ask when will it be
that man will be able
to live without killing,
And the wind will settle.