How does a young writer con­nect to the depths of anguish and hope of the Holo­caust? In Broth­er Sal­vage: Poems, Rick Hilles trans­lates poet­ry writ­ten by a Holo­caust sur­vivor, Tadzik Stab­holz. ​“Amchu” best exem­pli­fies this col­lec­tion of ​“genizah” or hid­den, sacred doc­u­ments of Judaism in which Tadzik smug­gles a Leica cam­era into the War­saw ghet­to. The viewer’s nar­ra­tive record can­not help but sear the reader’s soul, ​“Now/​his left hand moved over the faces, the way/​he tend­ed them when they were still alive,/and he scanned the wreck­age of a shelledout/​hos­pi­tal for any­thing that might hold back/death…The sud­den fusion of pur­pose and frenzy/​a kind of mad­den­ing ecstasy/​that held him wide awake in the night­mare…” The dead are again memo­ri­al­ized into life and light in ​“Yom HaShoah in Flori­da,” inter­weav­ing the trees, Span­ish stream­ers and piñatas, and home­com­ing parades with the walk, selec­tion, and smoke of Tre­blin­ka. While there are oth­er con­tem­po­rary poems bring­ing into focus Hilles’ fas­ci­na­tion with the roman­tic Novalis and Cather­ine Blake, this review­er was riv­et­ed by the poignan­cy of these Holo­caust poems. It is said that the world must ​“remem­ber” or ​“nev­er for­get.” How can that effec­tive­ly pre­vent anti-Semi­tism or any oth­er act of mass geno­cide? When human­i­ty is men­tal­ly and emo­tion­al­ly touched to the core with real­is­tic accounts, then per­haps they will be moved to do more than just observe and remark about an expe­ri­ence far beyond their knowl­edge. Broth­er Sal­vage does just that.