Back to Freda’s stories
Freda Isaksen
The world was full of loveliness,
The children played, the mothers sang.
The birds built nests, the flowers bloomed.
At night they came, they stole, they plundered.
The children cried, the mothers wept.
The ovens burned, the smoke rose high.
The world was black and life was gone.
We have survived, we live,
They did not win.
Our children run, the mothers watch.
We do not forget, we mourn.
Their pain is ours.
We shall remember
And make the world full of loveliness again.
Back to Freda’s stories