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from Part I - Camp Life: The Reality 1933–1945
Published online by Cambridge University Press: 14 March 2018
Karel Parcer was born in 1906 in Ljubljana, Slovenia. On May 8, 1944, he was deported to Dachau as prisoner number 67,808, and was still a prisoner in the camp when it was liberated in 1945. Before his deportation he worked as a bank consultant. The following text has its origins in 1944 and was written in the camp. It is the second part of a longer poetic work entitled “Dachau,” which begins with the motif of Hell from Dante's Divine Comedy. The author gave the typewritten manuscript to the Museum of the People's Revolution (now the National Museum of Contemporary History) in Slovenia, where it is stored in the “Dachau” file.
Ob vstopu v taborišče smrti
Nedelja je bila, ko smo vstopili
v ta tabor smrti s težkimi koraki
kot v težkem snu Matjaževi vojščaki,
potem ko smo prostosti sled zgubili.
Zdaj dvignil sem pogled, glej čredo gosto,
neskončno množico na levi strani:
izstradani, zbledeli, razcapani
so se trpini zbirali v sprejem na prosto!
Glej, da bi dih svoj in pa čas zaustavil,
da v en mah bi preštel te ljudske trope
ter vase vse sprejel poglede tope
iz vrst tega špalirja—kaj bi stavil!
Bili so vsi enaki, smrtnobledi,
vsi v progastih oblekah modro-belih,
vsak v rokah držal je trpljenja kelih
in vprašujoči b'li so njih pogledi.
Kaj vprašate nas le, oči neštete?
Da li prišli smo iz svobode,
da li naj to poslednja četa bode,
ki k vam prišla je iz prostosti svete?
Zdaj ugledal v njih očeh sem soj solzeni:
mi zanje smo še ravnokar živeli
v svetu, ki za njim so koprneli
že mesece in leta v sužnji temi.
In v vrvenje množic je posvetil
odsev iz naših vrst, spomin na domovino,
ki tisto jutro še vso sinjino
nam je blestela, ko je zor zasvetil.
Še dih njen blagoslovljen nas je obdajal,
na čevljih še domače grude sledi
in njena še toplota v naši sredi!
Ves ta privid je množico naslajal.
Kaj je narodov stalo tu pred nami?!
Zdaj v eno vse so misli se strnile:
v spominu svetle domovine mile
vsi so jeziki eno govorili z nami.
On Entering the Death Camp
It was Sunday when we entered
this death camp, with steps as heavy
as the dreams of King Matjaž's warriors,
having lost our trace of freedom.
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