Stille Nacht, Heilege Nachtby
Peter Meinke
At Christmas, my sisters and I
learned to sing carols in German:
Grandpa would give us a quarter
apiece for performing, though
only Carol could carry a tune.
After the start of the War
Father forbade us to practice,
and when Grandpa asked for his songs
we told him they weren’t allowed.
You are German, he shouted. Sing!
Singt, mein kinder, für mich!
We stood mute, unhappy, ashamed,
between father and son locking eyes
while the U-boats were nosing the currents
and propellers coughed in the skies
like angels clearing their throats.
“Stille Nacht, Heilege Nacht” by Peter Meinke, from Liquid Paper: New and Selected Poems. © University of Pittsburgh Press, 1992. Reprinted with permission.
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