Refugee Blues
by Wystan Hugh Auden
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Written in the blues form with a haunting refrain 'my dear', the poem voices the anguish of German Jewish refugees fleeing Nazi persecution. In a city of ten million souls there is 'no place for us'. The refugees once had a country, still found in the atlas, but 'we cannot go there now'. Their old passports are useless, the consul says that without a passport 'you're officially dead', and a committee only asks them to return next year. A public speaker warns that the refugees will 'steal our daily bread'; thunder in the sky is Hitler saying 'they must die'. With bitter irony the poet contrasts their plight with the freedom of animals: a poodle in a jacket, a cat let in at a door, fish swimming free, birds singing at ease, none of them German Jews, none 'the human race'. The poem ends with ten thousand soldiers marching, 'looking for you and me'. It is a poignant protest against statelessness, prejudice and inhumanity.
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No place for us
In a city of ten million souls, some live in mansions and some in holes, 'yet there's no place for us'. The refugees once had a country they thought fair, it is still there in the atlas, but 'we cannot go there now'. The old yew in the churchyard blossoms anew each spring, but 'old passports can't do that'.
Official rejection
The consul bangs the table: 'If you've got no passport you're officially dead', yet 'we are still alive'. A committee offers a chair and asks them politely to return next year, but 'where shall we go today?'. At a public meeting a speaker warns that if the refugees are let in 'they will steal our daily bread', 'he was talking of you and me'.
Hitler's shadow
Thunder rumbling in the sky is 'Hitler over Europe, saying: they must die', 'we were in his mind'. The refugees see a pampered poodle in a jacket and a cat let in at a door, and reflect bitterly, 'but they weren't German Jews'. Even the fish swimming free and the birds singing at ease in the trees 'weren't the human race'.
Hunted and homeless
The poet dreams of a building with a thousand floors, doors and windows, 'not one of them was ours'. They go to catch a train to 'Happiness', but 'every coach was full'. The poem ends on a great snow-covered plain where ten thousand soldiers march to and fro, 'Looking for you and me', the refugees hunted even to the end.