Highways and Byways: Wenn Du Mich Siehst, Dann Weine

By Maik Strosahl
I saw an article today that several hunger stones have been exposed due to drought conditions. [“Centuries-old warnings emerge from riverbed as Europe faces historic drought,” by Aspen Pflughoeft, Miami Herald, AUGUST 12]
    In parts of Europe, hunger stones were placed as a memorial to those lost in past droughts and the famines that followed

—a warning for future generations. They were embedded into the river beds marking how low the water level had dropped during their tribulations, many with engraved messages. One famous one, in the Elbe River, Czech Republic, was scribed with these words: “Wenn du mich siehst, dann weine”—literally translated from German “If you see me, then weep.”
    As so many worry about what lies ahead after Covid, for our Earth and for each of us as we navigate these turbulent political waters, may our eyes be open to these powerful messages of warning, these hunger stones and the words of those who went before us, coming back through the surface of low rivers.
    I wonder if it is too late. I pray it not so.

Wenn Du Mich Siehst, Dann Weine

Take these words to the elders
that they may warn the congregation,

take them to the steeples
that you can call over the mountains,

take them as you prepare the children
that their bellies are not caught unaware,
that their mouths will not question
“Why, Papa, why?”

take these,
swallow them down
with the drops that remain
in these shallows,
become full with their meaning,
words as meat on the bone,
nourishment portioned by a comma,
prayers offered for hope and comfort
in the tears of hungry
and the period that brings
this sentence to an end.

Copyright © 2022 by Maik Strosahl Michael E. Strosahl has focused on poetry for over twenty years, during which time he served a term as President of the Poetry Society of Indiana. He relocated to Jefferson City, Missouri, in 2018 and currently co-hosts a writers group there.