Chagall

The blue fiddler of Bethlehem
tunes the street with its soft lamplight
on flagged bush and aster, on veiled
maidens in the snow of their dance,
for his bride. She is a virgin,
a winter column; what is spring's blush on the walls to
  her
as the Panzers force distempered Vitebsk?

I will dice with him for her.
There in the revelry's midst I shall cast
...