Korczak, the Inimitable
In steamy Warsaw, they walk,
The kids and Korczak
As one. They walk
With water and a slice of bread,
Among these orphans, there is no dread.
They walk, unified, marching to join their fellow dead.
Their one true father, leading from the front
Korczak, the inimitable,
Boarding the train, ready to jump
With his children, into the hell-fire.
Korczak, the inimitable
And his orphan children —
They are dead now.
They live on in eternity
Because of Korczak, the inimitable.