Our Little Village
is Aflame

Aflame, my brothers, aflame!
O see, our little village is aflame!
Stormy winds on embers glowing,
Burning, breaking, fiercely blowing,
Fire that’s ever stronger growing -
All our world’s aflame!
And you stand unmoving, staring,
While our world’s aflame.
Aflame, my brothers, aflame!
O see, our little village is aflame!
Even now the tongues of fire
Lash the houses, reaching higher,
And the stormy winds conspire
To devour in flame.
And you fold your arms, uncaring
Therein lies the shame -
And you stand unmoving, staring,
While our world’s aflame.
Aflame, my brothers, aflame!
O you alone can help or bear the blame!
If you love our little village
Take up arms and stop the pillage;
With your blood put out the fire,
Men, uphold your name!
Please don’t fold your arms, uncaring,
Therein lies the shame -
Don’t just stand, put out the fire -
All our world’s aflame.

Words and Music: Mordechai Gebirtig
Written in 1938 after the pogrom in Pshitic, the song contains a
warning of the imminent Holocaust. Sung in Cracow and other
ghettos. Mordechai Gebirtig was shot by the Germans in 1942.