Birthday Invite For 61

Because nothing is forgot ... there is a pair of red shoes

There is a pair of red shoes

There is a pair of red shoes

Number twenty-four

almost New:

inner sole can still be seen on the brand of factory

"Shulze Monaco"

there is a pair of red shoes

top a pile of children's shoes

Buchenwald

more in there is a pile of blonde curls

of black hair and brown

Buchenwald

were used to make blankets for soldiers

not waste anything

them and the children undressed and shaved them

before pushing in the gas chambers

there a pair of red shoes

of red shoes for Sunday

Buchenwald

were a child of three years

perhaps three and a half years

who knows that color were his eyes

burned in furnaces

but we can imagine her crying

know how the children weep

even his feet

we can imagine them

shoe number twenty-four

for eternity

because the feet of the dead children do not grow

there is a pair of red shoes

Buchenwald

nearly new

because the feet of the dead children

not consume the soles.

Joyce Salvadori Lussu

Joyce Salvadori (Salvadori Gioconda), better known under her married name of Joyce Lussier (Florence, May 8, 1912 - Rome, 4 November 1998) was a writer, translator and Italian partisans, a silver medal for military valor.

-Home is where you are right, said: where you live in harmony with its neighbors, where he willingly returns at home, finding friends. But there also means cross borders and meet other, similar but different to us. "You laugh and cry all in the same way," used to say. The hatred and violence comes from the exploitation, coercion, robbery of the vital need: food, rest, emotions, thought, freedom, men and women equally necessary.

story was his way of turning his thoughts, because the origin of every person and every thing there is always a story.

And us, continuing his thought, says:

Felix Nussbaum (1904-1944 ).

The image speaks for itself (AL)

raining and raining.

Under the slanting rain that falls, I sit.

Tamburella on my bare head,

cola eyebrows burned,

flows inside the mouth that bleeds.

Rain shoulder injury,

rain in my heart torn.

Rain, rain, rain.

What is still living?

These verses were written by a survivor of Hiroshima, Kazuo, but these words going beyond every border shared by all peoples of reflection and sound a warning for all humanity.

I would go alone

Where there is another best people,

somewhere unknown

where no one kills.

But maybe we'll go in many

Towards this dream,

in a thousand maybe

and why not now?

In the town of Terezin, not far from Prague, were deported between 1942 and 1944 fifteen thousand children.

Words suriportate Alena Synkovà are one of them.

reflect together in a religious silence.

Anna Lanzetta