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.