Over 100,00 people were killed at Babi Yar between September 29, 1941 and November 6, 1943. Oh, come and gather round to hear This story from afar, As I unfold the tragedy, The tale of Babi Yar. It happened in the time of war, And not to be outdone, Aggression reared its ugly head In 1941. For Germans drove the Russians out Of Kiev in Ukraine; And there they set up their command: Ruthless and inhumane. For after Russian bombings of The city, vengeance grew; The Germans found their answer---this Was what they chose to do: “The Yids, they are responsible! Those Jewish Bolsheviks! We know we must retaliate Against their cunning tricks!” For there, outside the city, was This natural ravine, Which then became a killing field, Macabre, a nightmare scene. “All Yids in Kiev must report, And if you don't, you will Be shot; make sure you do as told Or else we're sure to kill.” And so, naively, all Jews came And waited on the day Unknowingly, to meet their end As they were hauled away. “Strip off your clothes, and put your things, Your valuables in a pile, And line up here---do as you're told, And wait a little while.” Then one by one, they, line by line Approached the precipice; And naked told to face it While they gazed at ghastliness. For every row of Jews was shot And face down they did fall Into the ever-growing pile Of bodies. One and all, Well over thirty thousand souls Would perish in two days, Machine guns filling the ravine. And when their bloody ways, Their bloodlust wasn't satisfied, They came for the insane-- The hospital was emptied. Plus The gypsies from Ukraine, As well as Russian soldiers captured, Kiev citizens, Communists and ordinary Soviet denizens. Nude bodies struck, the women raped, They buried the half-dead; Or stepping on the bleeding pile Would shoot to kill instead. The little children, babies, were then Hurled into the air, Over the edge, into the pit, Before their mothers there. And then, they tried to shield their crime In 1943, By disinterring every corpse, And in some secrecy Would burn away the evidence. And so for forty days A hundred thousand dead or more Became as ashen haze. But this was all in vain because In time the world would know What happened in that deep ravine Those many years ago. For it indeed behooves us that we Learn from this, and then No more repeat the ugly past, No never, not again. And so, memorials today Remind us, insofar As we maintain the memory of The dead of Babi Yar. Theresa Rodriguez is the author of Jesus and Eros: Sonnets, Poems and Songs, Longer Thoughts, which has just been released by Shanti Arts, and Sonnets, a collection of sixty-five sonnets which has also just been released by Shanti Arts. Her work has appeared in such journals and publications as in the Wilderness House Literary Review, the Midwest Poetry Review, Leaf Magazine, Spindrift, the Shakespeare Oxford Fellowship, The Road Not Taken: A Journal of Formal Poetry, Mezzo Cammin, The Scarlet Leaf Review, The Epoch Times, and the Society of Classical Poets. Her website is www.bardsinger.com.