My Berlin: Moving Memorial to Murdered Sinti and Roma
In the German capital city, among the rustling of tall trees is a quiet space in the northeast corner of Tiergarten Park adjacent to the Reichstag. Between the chirps and whistles of small birds, a recording of a violin plays. Individual notes are held, as long as possible, as if life depended upon the existence of each note. Slowly, the sound accumulates into a keening wail, burrowing deep (if you let it) and tearing from within (if you feel it). You’d do well not to stumble, as you gingerly move through the memorial, careful not to step on words like “Auschwitz”. Inscribed on flattened stones spreading out from the pond are the names of important places, critical to maintaining memory, with intention and purpose.
Created by Dani Karavan, the Memorial to Murdered Sinti and Roma consists of a circular pond. At the centre is a triangular slab on which fresh flowers are placed. In a ring around the pond are the words of a poem, “Auschwitz”, by writer and composer, Santino Spinelli, a member of the Italian Sinti and Roma.
Muj šukkó, kjá kalé vušt šurde; kwit. Jilo čindó bi dox, bi lav, nikt ruvbé.Drenperdo Mui, phagede Jakha, schiel Wuschtia; Pokunipen. Phagedo Dschi, kek Ducho, kek Labensa, kek Asvia.
Eingefallenes Gesicht, erloschene Augen, kalte Lippen. Stille. Ein zerrissenes Herz, ohne Atem, ohne Worte, keine Tränen.
Pallid face, dead eyes, cold lips. Silence. A broken heart without breath, without words, no tears.