vampsinthe78

In a big 'tidy up' at the casa de vamp, I found a poem written in the '70s by my grandad, which nearly brought a tear to my eye...

- Munich '72 -

The 20th Olympiad which brought the world to Munich
was just as grand a spectacle as any held before.
The same intoxicating air, electric and Olympic,
complete with days of perfect weather. Who could ask for more?


A wealth of sportsman pledge to hold, or gain a reputation,
for Gods of only yesterday, today are only names.
A mighty Spitz, with seven gold became the new sensation,
though little Olga Korbut was the "darling of the games".


Then some fanatic introduced an different kind of symbol
that differed from the golden, and the silver, and the bronze.
While sinister and made of lead, no bigger than a thimble.
Not for all competitors, but just the 'chosen ones'.


Even then you didn't have to be your country's hero,
no metaphoric 'David & Goliath' task to do.
You didn't have to win a heat, a place, a zero.
You only had to be there and you had to be a jew.


You didn't mount the rostrum to receive your leaden token,
nor was your country's banner proudly raised above the rest.
Presented in the darkest hours, before the dawn had broken.
You took it with clenched hands and teeth and hoped that God knew best.


"Lord, God of Hosts, forgive me please; my simple heart appeals -
Were we lead from Egypt just to die in playing fields?"

T. Syddall (1919 - 1999)

Let's not forget the shocking and horrific price of prejudice.

v78 @_@ xXx