Anna Frank is murdered, gone.

But her diary lingers on

And a tourist pays to see

To revive the memory

At her house in Amsterdam

By the water, where the tram

Cars rattle and recall

The smash of jackboot

And the fall of Holland.

 

Wilhelmina’s dead and gone

Juliana wears the crown

Modern buildings stand instead

Covering the silent dead

And the tulip grows serene

Where the German tank has been.

 

Anna Frank is Asian now

In the dreams of Enoch Powell.

Must we over English meadows

Build our road to Buchenwal?

 

John Greatrex