Drummings on an Empty Skull

Drummings on an Empty Skull

This is the word that Jacob

Meeting his death in Egypt

Laid on the brow of Judah,

Lion of all the earth:

“Nations shall bow before thee,

“All of thy brothers shall praise thee,

“Fruit on thy boughs shall blossom,

“Tribes from thy loins have birth.”

Sing-song chants from the ghettoes,

Tell of a thin limbed people,

Crowded into their hovels,

Rats who blink at the sun—

Where is thy heritage, Judah?

Lost in the mists of ages.

These are a bastard motley,

Ghosts of a race long run.