of humankind but he's perhaps the greatest yet a poet even though many people in america and other places have never heard heard of him tonight we have a special group of poetry readers some w be speaking in yiddish with english translation and you will see them as we move forward many of the english translations came from this book translated from the yiddish by benjamin and barbara harsh off there's one that isn't but that is a den of five as we move forward avram such cover lived a very long and also tragic life in many ways he was born in smorgon russia at that time it was called the pale of settlement he he experience the life of a refugee because this family was exiled to siberia after the russian revolution his mother and two of his two of his siblings would move to vilna and they would he would be the member of a young writers group he was a famous poet in eastern europe even before world war two beg n but he but when the germans attacked lithuania in one nine hundred forty one he would he would he would be a teacher in the ghetto a poet a smuggler and he would also be hidden by righteous poles who help save his life he would later become a partisan in the forest and become one of the first soviet witnesses of the holocaust in the soviet union he would be a witness at nuremberg he and his he and his wife would illegally immigrate to israel in hundred seven and he would spend the next fifty years as a poet of yiddish an editor of polish journals and he would receive the israel prize and he would finally die not too long ago in tel aviv at two thousand and ten this is what he says in one of his poems where the i of my soul weeps images pristine images imploring describe describe for yourself as for another world jew believes in the messiah that as long as i was writing was able to be a poet i would have a weapon against death and as we go through as per his his poems i the way i read them they become like prayers and this is what he writes for years a prayer sails in my veins and it weighs maestro fiza band dear god let us exchange our memories i will recall the beginning you will remember the end as we move forward in the talk we're going to utilize the images of marc chagall who was who also lived fairly near vilna though he would  he would actually move to paris as a young man and become a world renowned artist and we will also utilize the works of samuel bach whose was it was a friend of the  vilna ghetto and this is a photo of of him in one nine hundred forty three and he would be also become a world renowned artist and many of his themes will be on the holocaust he will join us later was born in one nine hundred thirteen in smorgon russia right kind of where this round circle is and this is actually of two photographs of smorgon in the in the early part of the twentieth century these are his parents rainey and her suits cover and ed when he was a young child about two years old there two or three years old hit the suits kefir family was expelled from the area in world war one along with one point five million other jews now they were sent into exile by the russian army and if you look at the map vilma's kind of right in this area it was right on the eastern front between the german army and the russian armies and they were going back and forth and the russian army thought jews would be spies for the germans and because they thought so they decided just to round them up and they sent them to siberia and the such giver family were was exiled to a place called siberia and this is a an early hand painted photograph of arms and it was on the trans siberian railroad and this is a photograph when when the suits give her family would be there in  and this is a photograph of russian refugees at the refugee camp also taken i believe in one thousand nine hundred eighteen so that was the experience and as we go through his poems you also see one of the one of the common themes of his poetry is the feeling of exile the feeling of homelessness the feeling of of always being not quite present with the society in which he lives the russian revolution and civil war would take place in one thousand between one nine hundred seventeen and one nine hundred twenty three millions would be killed in that war and this is where they lived in omsk siberia and this is where they would ultimately go to vilna at the time vilna will be lithuania would become its own country and there in the area between the white russians and the red russians bolsheviks are here white russians are there and so they were they were probably experienced seen what refugees experience in any war zone millions people died but one person who died not of a war but of a heart attack was such covers father and sled i ran after you i wanted to catch up with your memory that fled at my breasts the dove as white as snow when a pole with pulsing heart beats hollowed in the ice so hot for you to stay in the white abyss has quickly swallowed you in ice you sparkle to this day i too wanted to jump in with you but my dove burst out of my embrace evening sun crowned with white gold that fl life she drew me in her trace the experience of the death of his father the white dove would be in many of his poems and the white dove kind of represents the transition between life and death and we will see it later as we move forward his mother never married again and she took three of her children to vilna ville no ville name vilnius it was a city on the crossroads and each of those are different languages as russian and polish and yet it and lithuanian because it was a place that a lot of there was a lot of cultural division in many cases and it was a place in which wars off and occurred it was called the jerusalem of the north also called the jerusalem of lithuania because it was a major it was a major point of of religious culture going back to the eighteenth century and of jewish religion of jewish doctrine of and he would emigrate to at that time palestine so he himself would make his way there his sister who was thirteen years old in a poet died of what they called brain disease not quite sure what that was but it was at the age of hebrew school and then he would also become self taught himself this is a photograph from one nine hundred twenty nine of also children in the vilna hebrew jewish school and you notice they're wearing the same types of hats hundred thirty three he was already writing poetry and he would join a young writers group a very famous group called the young villain a villain as writer group and this is him in this photograph and they were trying to take modern modernistic movements and poetry writing in yiddish some also in hebrew and translating them to jewish culture within a modern cloak or suit dr grasses trees a spring a vessel earth and the distant rainbow hues of sleep in everything i come upon a splinter of infinity i see my body in the i feel my blood in the blooming of a rose and out of nature's metamorphosis i spin of consciousness a house in everything my master is revealed deep and great simple dust speak of forgiveness silent do of shining grace apples announce wise love of the white isolated orchard every moment without a hymn is a loss all i can feel is mine wherever my word can reach there i am like a spring in the desert pleasure gushes and draws my life's caravan in everything there is a trace of my footsteps his world begins to change in september first one nine hundred thirty nine the german army invades poland on the side of the train they write in german we are going to poland to beat up the jews it's a very complex time and if you recall from history poland is divided between the germans and the soviet union in one nine hundred thirty nine lithuania at the time even though it goes through various  soviet union for a while is its own country again and during that time period of rum marries his childhood sweetheart fred and this is a photograph of her it's the only one i could find and you see this million men and their intent is to conquer the the that part of russia by christmas time what follows the army where these black kind of lines on the map and they were german murder squads consisting of s s to stop all and also often times local police officers and their intent was to initially kill russian commas ours and jewish man i only put their photographs on because they represent the worst of humanity these are the organizers of the murder in the vilna area i call them german perpetrators and they reveal what we can be e if we allow ourselves to be perpetrators there were also lithuanian perpetrators and suits cover writes about this after the war and it's called the black book and here's what he writes the hunters they were also called snatchers job was to seize jewish men and to take them off to work it was a cold blood it means of delivering the jews into the clutches of death the hunters received one hundred marks for every jew captured and sent to his death the hunters were masters of their craft not only did they seize people and doom them to death but they torment at them as well and one of the people snatched was fred cop who was sent to the lucas prison and this was often the first point the first stopping off point before you were later murdered at a place called and this is what she would later testify to as we approached the prison two rows of policemen met us we were forced to pass between the rows to receive our initial greeting a policeman hit me in the head so on ard that stick broke many old people and children fell children were lined next to their trampled mothers as soon as we were inside the gate they ordered us to put down our parcels and remove our outer clothing tortures  continued for days and weeks no frikkie was actually one of the lucky ones because about eight people were bought off the from the germans they gave the money and they released about eight people from that prison for whatever the reason probably just due to money and one of the people that she posed as was a person who had already been dead by one of the beatings so when that name was called she just stepped in the breach and then she herself was was released these are from from the prison people would walk sometimes other times they would be driven in trucks and they would go to a extermination and before the end of the war about seventy thousand jews twenty thousand poles and eight thousand russians would be murdered there including suits givers wife mother rainy suits cover there was a witness who was who was bought who was who live near that pit and he was a polish pawn arre witness a journalist and this is what he would write for the germans three hundred jews or three hundred enemies of humanity for lithuanians they are three hundred pairs of shoes trousers and the like this gentleman cashmere is sock of it's he himself would later be disappear in the war though he hid his diary it was discovered but no one knows what happened to him where was suits cover at this time well if you weren't seized by the lithuanians or the germans maybe it's because you were hiding and suits kids or was in hiding and this would be actually some of the pauls that he wrote in yiddish when he was in hiding or in a molina a hiding place and this is what he had right after the on may sixteenth one thousand nine hundred two i wrote the nine poems of faces in the swamp in the first ten days when the plague marched in vilna approximately between june twenty fifth and july fifth i wrote them line stuck in a broken chimney in my old apartment of will commercial street fourteen this way i hid from the snatchers who dragged off every jewish male they could find my wife carried the poems to all the whores and the tragedies they were hurt they were with her through the first provocation were covered with blood in prison under swine in berg's way up miraculously i found my wife in the hospital where she gave birth to a baby in her labor pains she was clutching the poems in her hand his poem survive but as soon as the baby was born it was killed by the by the germans because they wanted no german mother no jewish mother to give birth and that will also become a source of his poems this time stacy hamelin will read leaves of ashes this is one of the poems that he was wrote he wrote while in hiding i were empty with your letters my only treasure then leaves a vast remain sprinkled with glow worms that i alone can read can ask i warm tea with your letters my only treasure let the wind be muted the tombstone that my shadow stands still one path and all your healing beauty will stir jealousy and all the roads how dear are you to me in leaves how shining do you die in leaves of ash that i alone can read can ask i warm tea with your letters my only treasure and that was written on july sixth one nine hundred forty one and early september the germans formed to ghettos a large ghetto here or here in a small ghetto one of the reasons they had a small ghetto it would be a staging ground for the for the murder and extermination that would follow one of the characteristics of the vilna ghetto unlike the other ghettos or many other ghettos if you had about thirty minutes to move when the germans told you to move ghettos like the ghetto of woodchip was like four months or even  it was like six weeks warsaw was approximately six to nine months but in the vilna ghetto it happened within thirty minutes and two of the images i use of that experience are the paintings of samuel bach the experience of what do you take in thirty minutes what do you leave behind what is lost what can never be found again and also the experience of what is it like when you're moving from the ghetto and everything about your family life your mental life your emotional life is being squeezed into one small space and suits giver would right the first night in the ghetto is the first night in the grave after that you get used to it never totally and what was life like in the ghetto confinement overcrowding restrictions brutality hunger diseases deportations even flowers were not allowed in the ghetto because it wasn't just simply to confine people it was to humiliate and brutalize them in the next six months from september first to the end of the year around the end of december there would be a series of actions or selections to poland are the germans were basically choosing people to select large portions of the jewish community and by the end of that year there would be over thirty five thousand that would be murdered this is a photograph from the liquidation of the little ghetto on october twenty hundred forty one and this is what it looked like at that time last week when i was given researching another man and in the ghetto a diary name herman crook a librarian i came upon his diary and a table of contents which expresses what it was like to live in that gaggle in those six months and i'm only taking a few examples it went on for pages and i'll read a few of them october fourth they tear families apart two thousand taken october fifth again six thousand october six people go voluntarily october tenth get all sealed people flee october thirteenth people become animals october fourteenth twenty three hundred heads october twenty first little ghetto liquidate october twenty second today many years later chronically ill crippled and insane october twenty three permits and it goes on but i noticed in this chronicle there was also a mention of suits cover poet suit poet suit covers mother poet suit kept her morning so around this time period was the time that his that either he was informed of his mother's murder or she was taken away and at this point stacy will read excerpts from three roses you would swim across the river you were free and your life color went off with the waves on the other shore there is no memory you don't even recall how you got there for you left death on this side and on this side am i with your dying in my brain cycling me feeling like your milk in the beginning but i cannot touch you mama for you are a mist sprung out in tears and i attend all of sliced up words i shall take a spade and walk off to seek you  graves i shall ask the grass i shall taste the thorns and feel your shadow on my arms and if i cannot reach out to you i shall dig into words and spade into sound until i shall free the beautiful roses of the dark land where they went down but even in the midst of the tragedy of the murder of their brutality since kev are continue to write poems of great beauty and now stephen croppy will read a pack of music over a pile of steaming horse dung i wore my icy hands i wore my hands and regret not enough have i known have i listened to the greatness of small sometimes the warm breath of a pile of dung may become a poem a thing of beauty stephen cross suits cover would also write a poem on execution and he would participated in one of these execution crews and he writes about it it's in the harshaw book on his biography and he said he was digging all day with the grave diggers and usually the grave diggers were shot and murdered afterwards so they could not be a witness to the atrocities but in this case he said i was lined up with the rabbi at the end of the day they told us we're going to shoot you now so the the lithuanian soldiers came up there he said i lifted my eyes up to the heavens and i sold delves and at that point in time the bullets went over our heads they walked away and we went back to the ghetto stephen crop people now read execution know pit as one must as they say i seek in the earth a sewer today a thrust in a cut and a warm gives a start it trembles below me breaking my heart my speed cuts through him through and miracle see the warm divide it becomes to becomes three i'm cutting again therefore they are five was it i who created all these lives then the sun breaks through my darkest mood and new hope makes me proud at the beginning of nineteen at the beginning of of one thousand nine hundred forty forty two there was kind of an a bands for about a year and a half in the ghetto and it would be a time of jews trying to survive maintain their human dignity and also create and they created theater and they created schools and they created soup kitchens for those who had no food and they created a theater and this is what suits  would write in his black book i used to think that someone who was sentenced to death would give no thought to artistic creation life can mitt convince me otherwise i saw for myself that humanity would never abandon the spirit of building and creating i agreed to serve as an artistic director for the proposed theater and now dean a wrestler will read excerpts on the anniversary of the ghetto theatre we weld ourselves in and live apart from your freedom do not smile at us do not pity for us even death can blossom into wonder perform jewish actors in tatters and in walls where life like hair that caught fire when red drops of your loved ones are seizing on stones and the alleys convulse like half slaughtered hens and cannot arise fly away perform friends let us think it's a shuttle of your they celebrate a wedding at an autumn graveyard with jewish singing and dancing light in a joyous circle around the bride and groom perform from your mouth let yet if sound pure and clean as the ghost of a slaughter child harsh and horse is the voice of a rifle and gunpowder performing tomorrow over the rooftops and you melancholy fiddlers who stole out at night into the lurking outside shuffling past houses of fading patrols creeping into your ruined old home and digging up your fiddles planted before your march into the ghetto you play to pluck out the deepest tones let them carry above your bones and cover would also help sponsor help introduce a a young artist prodigy in the ghetto and this would be the young samuel bach and samuel would show was his paintings his drawings and he would win a prize and the prize was a book called the pincus and these are three of the drawings from that book the pinkest by samuel bach and samuel bach would also survive like such cover and he would write he would then paint things like this called the sounds of silence and one on this side is poets from the ghetto orchestra and on the other side that i have chosen are very much related to events in my own life the first one that i will read was written shortly after our liberation after my mother told suit's quiver how she managed to escape the camp how some how in the sack i was smuggled out of the cam and what she's so very important for me personally in that that was not translated into english and therefore i cannot provide you with a translation of it what was very important is that these woman speaking of her little boy that she managed to save  this mosis this sculpture that he was working on and then she say's well there is enough clay in the graves of the jews and this this lining that's poem became a kind of a but for all the people that because of injustices because of intolerance because of racism and so on are destroyed and are killed so the first poem that i will read now age he was thirty thirty one he was extremely interested in what i was doing i was working on the small moses sculpture and  spent with me a lot of his free time talking about his friend shargel who then was in paris speaking to me about artists about all kinds of things that interested me very much and he and i will now read that home in the english translation who is the woman fluttering toward me at her breast a baby with no name she hovers through to the villi ashore and  breast the child a flickering flame she das dashes to the shore into the river digs deep into the rushing torrent see as she sets the baby on a floor of ice and she starts sinking sinking in a bit us how far is the village from the nile same water flows days other days beget the horror of eternity makes it a habit return again so man should not forget for one last time she reaches out her fingers and pulls the sunset down the ways they race over her head now stormy or and lighter and on the shore just i remain a trace the ice floe bears a present to the spring a dreamy baby swimming to the sea and die a company to the moon and bless it a new moses will you be jewish paper brigade and they would become the smugglers of documents of books of art so that they could read so that the future world would retain them and this is what the germans want it they wanted to take the richest things of jewish culture and put him an enemy's iyam in frankfurt germany and display them after all the jews were murdered the first hebrew portuguese dictionary the first complete yet ish bible the first hebrew illustrated book this is what they wanted and this is what the jewish smugglers in the community wanted to keep from their grasp what was being saved letters from tolstoy manuscripts of and at this time and brom are will read excerpts from grains of wheat caves gape open split under my axe before the bullet hits me i bring you gifts in old blue pages purple traces and silver hair words on parchment created through thousands of years in despair as if protecting a baby i ran bearing jewish words i reach my carried off by the smoke and winds hidden poems come and choke me hide in your labyrinth and i dig and plant manuscripts and if by despair i am beat my mind recalls egypt a tale about grains of wheat perhaps these words will endure and live to see the light and in the destined hour will unexpectedly bloom and like the primeval grain that turned into a stock the words will nourish the words will belong to the people in its eternal vilna ghetto match nine hundred forty three the poets become partisans not only do they begin do they smuggle books but they also begin to smuggle guns and machine guns and there are two of them to the  the lead plates of the printers like fingers stretched out through the bars in the night to catch the free light of the air that is shed we sneak in the dark to grab up as in spite of the rum printing plates with old wisdom in bread we dream or is now have to be soldiers and fight and melt into bullets the soul of the lead and now once again we broke open the seal of a strangely familiar timeless dark cave and armored in shadows with candles concealed we poor it out the letters in lead lines engraved thus did in the temple our forefathers wield the golden menorah poured in oil that was saved liquid lead brightly shining in bullets so fine ancient thoughts in the letters that melted hot a line from babylonia from poland a line boiled flooded together in the foundry pot jewish valor hidden in word and in sign must now explode the whole world with a shot and he who saw a jewish youth in their prime clutching the weapons in ghetto halls he saw the last struggle of yo fall of those granite walls took in the words poured in lead out of time and heard in his heart their ancient voice calls film the ghetto september twelfth nineteen forty three manuscripts their own bibles their own literature and it would become famous for its classical editions of the babylonian talmud which would be distributed all over the jewish vilna ghetto would be liquidated on september twenty third one nine hundred forty three it would be a loss of culture and of life as mention since giver would lose his mother and he would also lose his newborn don't count the toll of wounds the suffering the star scar you have ignited once a newborn baby star and at your feet a spring in our dark cave has curled and suddenly a baby's cooing has touched the world and like the purest spring the word was done revealed but up above us no one must hear what must be sealed i know it for you and thanks my spirit too did lift i brought you from above two blades of grass a gift a child is not an other it's you alone and me it leads up on a ladder close to ourselves you see but still before we thought a name for him that's right the axes and the crowbars have plundered in the night the baby knew not a thing had dozed off in its rest the german came and ripped him away from others breast and what can take its place dear desolate and wild when from afar the small bones of our child and breathless we rush through swamp and growth so wild you hold in hand a rifle a shadow of your child and every time the rifle spits out the chunk of lead in its dull glow we see the child that we have bred as air fills up the world it fills our minds shield in pink of dawn it rises it appears here in the field and over all our wounds are suffering or scar it did not disappear the new born baby star also written as a part i am the child that carries a blade of grass when they lead him to slaughter i am the woman hiding in the sewers along with her new born babe not severed from her belly where the gloom is so infinite you think of mice splashing in the mud angels are singing i am the old man grey in wrinkled as a walnut who needs to cheat about his age to look like twenty i am the boy younger than need be who must scratch his face and stand on tiptoe i am the last word of the one fallen into the pit i am the helplessness of the one paralyzed who cannot bring his arm to his throat to free himself i am the man returning from the city with gunpowder in his boots creating from it a savior as the material created a golem i am the one madly in love on a creaking gallows his eyes stuck in from afar a smiling woman i am already burned frozen beheaded the leaders stall joseph stalin and others heard about suits covers palm in the forest and they would actually airlift them to moscow so that they could be witnesses of the holocaust and here we have the two of them in march of one nine hundred forty four in the lithuanian partisan headquarters they would return after the soviets liberated vilna and they would try to retrieve the culture the some of whom would later be executed by joseph stalin in one nine hundred fifty two and the next and he at the time suits caver would also begin to to publish his the vilna ghetto paul's which i got at it was a second volume it was published in one nine hundred forty five in new york city and a second book in which he would write the part on vilna in it's called the complete black book of russian jewelry and it was written by ilya ehrenberg and vasily grossman and this is what he would write and i include again two paintings of samuel bach one is called excavation and the other one is called where it ends because in some ways suits giver and all holocaust survivors will begin to ask the questions the whys the what's what and they will also begin to excavate their memories their experiences and their feelings and this is what he would write i felt that i was destined to be the witness who staged the spectacle i don't know who needed it what for i felt a divine sense of misery an admission those are the most elevated moments of my life and when he returns back to vilna he goes to his mother's house and janet stein will read black i feel my mother's spirit hanging on the thorns the black thorns and now my psalms at dusk when only do's know no tears i climb up to them aching with devotion in my lips clouds over words prattle up a homey moon to him who planted the black the ones i pray let me to like them i want to live here this is good is good i am dress start dancing dancing dancing to the thorns flo credibility creativity his passion he was asked by the soviet union to testify on behalf of soviet jews and soviet citizens at the first nuremberg trial for war crimes and crimes against humanity rima remold turkey will read before the nuremberg trial before the nuremberg trial it is said i demand justice on behalf of millions that this is being recorded for a prosperity but those millions of no longer with us so what kind of justice can i demand now i would have to be shylock thousand times over to the evil of earth by people you will have to hone the blade if god himself proves too weak to exact what's due and this was read on feb twenty seventh  forty six illegally emigrate to israel in one thousand nine hundred seven they would participate in in the same experience that thousands tens of thousands of other jews from all in all the parts a europe would also make their way to palestine and it was an exciting time and also a tragic time and there would be war almost as soon as they arrived in one thousand nine hundred forty eight at the war of israel's independence cover got to israel he would spend more than fifteen years of the rest of his life not only writing multiple poetry books but becoming the editor of a uterus journal called the golden chain it would be over one hundred thirty issues of more than two hundred fifty pages and it would be published for the scattered yiddish community around the world these images i took in the archive stacks of the  and nam hurst which was led by the tour by fred com and janet stein and they allowed us to go into the stacks and i took these photographs and these are actually what volumes of the eunice journal looked like and now generation did not fulfill it will restore a bridge the bones of joseph still warm him birds left behind in that city's abundant layers and with them the eternal light of the language came here naked without grandma's prayer the bones of joseph here understand the bones of joseph there on their poland they don't know each other act like strangers and cut like knives and glow like coals and even though suits giver was in israel he could never forget lithuania and he was trying to relate his experiences new experience in israel with his old experience in lithuania and now dr akiva not shown will read commentary on a face in a mere commentary on the face in the mirror and if you paint over the image of did jewish street with a brush dipped in your new sunny palette i know the fresh scholars will peel someday the old image will attack you with an axe and wound you so the new will never heal you  the next poem well be by fred call who will read fragment the body burners are your fire witnesses the body burners day and night my bone ring they're swinging chains pleading give us meaning with the clatter of the chains my words are welded in the copper labyrinth dream have no reality to dream to rise i am an incarnation of the body burners of pono are my brothers baked of ash every loaf the face the sun their memorial candle and no one knows and when i walk the streets of jerusalem in the rain and snow i'm in the mirror i see there are so in colors living brother give us meaning and i pray to the sheet of paper be called as rock reveal a miracle left my searing syllables straying over you not turn to christian church he will read my father my father is a flow on rivers of siberia my mother is a bonfire what shall i do with so much memory wish i had it infuse it in veins from my grandchild to find it perhaps deep in the earth in its core rain rain don't slice your veins with the sun lest the grapes in the vineyard flee in fear perhaps instill it in a mirror perhaps save it with birds birds soaring letters take it my memory is yours maybe a good hearted bird will sing it into a hot in a man will make a blessing over singing fire  and now dina will read the english they will read the english version of the pom the smile of madonna the smile on weddings and purses in opera theater behind the scenes increases of your bread and salt salty conscience the green smile falls on your l t your ballad on every separate tremulous sound the smile falls with flickering fire into the best wine burgundy or took a it falls on squat depots barely mapped like mushrooms on the tall building of the united nations and higher that god forbid you should finish not a time for perfection torn out pages from holy books more terminal than marble close russian p o w s also were executed in poland are and suits cover also was a a witness for the russians as well so michel just tell us which one you're reading and first ok understood the depths and the subtlety and yet as she is clearly seen as poetry for the world in many languages and i would now read one nine hundred eighty one in english a letter arrived from the town  birth from one still sustained by the grace of her youth and close between torment and fondness she pressed a blade of glass from poland are this grass and moribund cloud with it once kindled the alphabet letter by letter and on the face of the letters in murmuring ash the blade of grass from pawn are the grass is my doll's house my snug little world where children play fiddles in rows as they burn the maestro is a legend they lift up there by for the blade of grass from poland are i won't part with this stem let that yields up my home the good earth i long for makes room for us both i'll bring to the lord my old blay sion at last the blade of grass from poland are translated by cynthia and when she would be honored at yad vashem memorial in jerusalem as one of the righteous non jews who risked their lives to save jews he would write a poem and i think she is a at a good contrast between the german perpetrators who chose to be perpetrators and now we have a polish woman who chooses to be righteous and we all  mark paul will read planting a tree for the righteous will hear what i was for under my breath thank you you saved my tears from the flame thank you children and grandchildren you rescue from the f i plant here bringing the milk and bread slice fickett d h you're making the site of the cross i'm making my begins to move back to that prayer that we mentioned at the beginning and he begins to have dialogues some ways he is poetry's are always a dialogue with the creator both about the beauty of nature but also about the wise if you're so good why is this happening but as he moved older this poem is called the bottom line it was written in one nine hundred ninety i shall leave behind nothing nothing his excellence see nothing i shall not leave for others over there what has happened may recur with adam and eve like old acquaintances i shall leave behind nothing nothing i must confirm a line in from the forest wherever my word can reach there i am my every word and open  key way of eyes shone through me in the dark illuminating the visions of unseen atoms i should take with me from the would be nonexistence my cradle my broom i once wanted to compare to a dried rain my first dove that learned humming up to our creator and i swear i shall take with me the breath of my extinguish friends when i nod on would they fed me with the honey of friendship i should take with me a pebble inscribed with letters by no human hand february twelfth one thousand nine hundred ninety i want to thank the readers who all spent much time and their evening with us tonight i want to think the belmont media center i want to thank diane covert who has helped sponsor these talks over the last year and i want to thank samuel bach for sharing your reminiscence with us and everyone else thank you and good night