Simon Sargon's Ash un Flamen is a cycle on the Holocaust, with texts by Holocaust victims. The texts are in Yiddish, a language originally written with the Hebrew alphabet, but transliterated here to the Latin alphabet. The cycle opens with the Hebrew question "Ma nishtana halayla haze?/Why is this night different from all other nights?" Although this question is usually asked ceremoniously by the youngest member of the family as an important part of the Passover seder, here it is asked of the Nazis in a portrayal of an actual occurrence during the Holocaust. The song opens with the chant of one of the four questions asked during the seder, and this theme recurs throughout the song with fatal variations. "Why is this night different from all other nights? Ask the Nazis- they're the ones making all the decisions." In "A Wagonful of Shoes", the poet is blinded by wagons bringing in piles and piles of shoes, and he is reminded of a chupah, the Jewish wedding canopy. As he begins to wonder where they all came from, the piano betrays their fate in a symbolic and musical portrayal of the Nazi's systematic slaughtering. Hypnotized by the endless piles of shoes and incessant stomping, his heart stops and he asks the shoes, "but where are the feet?"

A Vogn Shikh (Abraham Sutzkever) Di reder yogn, yogn, Vos brengen zey mit zikh? Zey brengen mir a vogn Mit tsaplendike shikh. Der vogn vi a khupe In ovntikn glants; Di shikh- a fule kupe Vi mentshn in a tants. A khasene, a yontev? Tsi hot mikh ver farblendt? Di shikh- azoyne nonte Oyf s'nay ikh hob derkent. Es klapn di optsasn: Vuhin, vuhin, vuhin? Fun alte vilner gasn Me traybt undz keyn Berlin. Ikh darf nit fregn vemes, Nor s'tut in harts a ris: Ah, zogt mir, shikh, dem emes, Vu zenen zey di fis? Durkh kindershikh un shkrabes Kh'derken mayn mames shikh! Zi flegt zey bloyz oyf shabes Aroyftsien oyf zikh. Un s'klapn di optsasn: Vuhin, vuhin, vuhin? Fun alte vilner gasn Me traybt undz keyn Berlin.

A Wagonful of Shoes The wheels press on, press on, What do they bring with them? They bring me a wagon Full of dangling shoes. The wagon is like a chupah In the evening glow; The shoes- piled up Like people in a dance. Is it a wedding? A holiday? What has blinded me like this? The shoes- just like new- How I recognize them all. The heels keep tapping: Where are we going? Where? From the old narrow lanes of Vilna, We are being driven to Berlin. I dare not ask whose shoes these are- It makes my heart stop: Oh shoes, tell me honestly, Where are the feet? Among all the children's shoes and the rags I recognize my mother's shoes! She used to save them To wear only on Shabbes! And the heels keep on tapping the question: Where are we going? Where? From the old narrow lanes of Vilna, They are taking us to Berlin.