Before a quarter of an hour had passed the shooting started up again.
Mrs. van Daan sat bolt upright at once and then went downstairs to Mr.
Dussel’s room, seeking there the rest which she could not find with her spouse. Mr. Dussel received her with the words, “Come into my bed, my child!” which sent us off into uncontrollable laughter. The gunfire troubled us no longer, our fear was banished!
Yours, Anne
Sunday, 13 June, 1943
Dear Kitty, My birthday poem from Daddy is too good to keep from you. As Pim usually writes verses in German, Margot volunteered to translate it. Judge for yourself whether Margot didn’t do it brilliantly. After the usual summary of the events of the year, this is how it ran: Though youngest here, you are no longer small, But life is very hard, since one and all Aspire to be your teacher, thus and thus: “We have experience, take a tip from us.”
“We know because we did it long ago.”
“Elders are always better, you must know.”
At least that’s been the rule since life began!
Our personal faults are much too small to scan.
This makes it easier to criticise The faults of others, which seem double size.
Please bear with us, your parents, for we try To judge you fairly and with sympathy.
Correction sometimes take against your will.
Though it’s like swallowing a bitter pill.
