This piece is part of our Witnessing series, which shares pieces from Israeli authors and authors in Israel, as well as the experiences of Jewish writers around the globe in the aftermath of October 7th.
It is critical to understand history not just through the books that will be written later, but also through the first-hand testimonies and real-time accounting of events as they occur. At Jewish Book Council, we understand the value of these written testimonials and of sharing these individual experiences. It’s more important now than ever to give space to these voices and narratives.
In collaboration with the Jewish Book Council, JBI is recording these pieces to increase the accessibility of these accounts for individuals who are blind, have low vision or are print disabled.
If I Forget Thee
If I forget thee, oh Hersh Goldberg-Polin
let my right hand forget its skill
the way your left hand, blown off your arm
was forced to forget its gentleness
and its strength as you were loaded
into a truck and forever stolen away;
If I forget thee, oh Hersh Goldberg-Polin
let my tongue cling to the roof of my mouth
and let no more words escape my lips
except I’m sorry,
the last words you texted your mother
though you had nothing to be sorry about;
If I forget thee, oh Hersh Goldberg-Polin
let my ears hear no sound at all
like the ringing silence between shouts
of your name cried by your mama
and dada as they stood at the Gaza
strip border calling, calling, calling;
If I forget thee, oh Hersh Goldberg-Polin
let my eyes see only the thick darkness
of a tunnel deep below the dank earth
where no sun, try as it might, could reach
the son so beloved by mother, father,
sisters, family, friends, tribe;
If I forget thee, oh Hersh Goldberg-Polin
if ever I ever forget thee.
The views and opinions expressed above are those of the author, based on their observations and experiences.
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