In Czechoslovakia, exactly 70 years ago, spring 1944, not far from that same border, a young man named Michael Flack looked out toward the lovely, spring-like countryside surrounding Terezin and wrote:
So lovely that my body aches.
Above, the heavens shriek with blue
Convinced I’ve smiled by some mistake.
The world’s abloom and seems to smile.
I want to fly but where, how high?
If in barbed wire, things can bloom
Why couldn’t I? I will not die!