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Julius Centye
January 1937
Morning dawns; the men hurry to their posts;
The day's work begins; turmoil echoes in the men's ears;
The dust of the drills floats in the hazy air.
Men, high on the pillars, high above the roaring river
Clutch and hold on to the cold steel.
Steady hands hammer the rivets.
Steady nerves keep them firm.
Shining cables will soon stretch across the muddy river
In the cold morning sun.
- Bernard Goldstein
January 1937
The thick mist rises from the cloudy waters of the lake,
The sky is inflamed with the sun's mad fire.
The naked body of a youth is standing on the shore.
A splash pierces the dawn—
Awaken!
- Marie Maia
January 1937
Two raindrops trickle down the window pane.
Their paths are aimless.
Suddenly they are as one,
Intermingling in the pattern of life.
- Norman Schildkraut
January 1937
Let me not be so old at fifteen;
Let not October's leafy ballet
Swirl past so noiselessly unnoticed,
Let not those meaningful details,
Shining from the drab depths of dark city streets,
Be lost in life's quick monotony.
Amen.
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