“This Could Be 1939 Again”
Czech Roma refugee, a friend of mine, who will remain nameless, circa 1998
The flames of fate had barely cooled
When the flames of hate were fanned
We though, we hoped, these days were gone
We saw, we see, cannot understand
Not since the rosary was prayed
By faithless folk who took Gods name in vain
Has the likes been, in Ireland seen
How can such bigorty remain.
This could be 1939 again
I was told by a Romany freind
Whose forfathers in Hitlers Reich were killed
After time in the camps did spend.
I scoffed, “This is Ireland”, I said
“Its not the Eastern Europe that you knew”…
“This is Ireland, and great it is” he replied
“It could be 1939 again here too.”
The smoke cleared and all can see
The smoldering blackened remains and residue
Of the homes in which the people died
And that my friends words, alas, are all too true.