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Sample Sources

The sources below are those contained in our three curated collections—covering themes of Passover, Gender Roles, and Holocaust Resistance. They represent a fraction of the thousands of sources that will be available when the full site launches in 2024.
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Popular Poetry of the Russian Jews

[ . . . ] Similarly, the Russian Jews use the traditional rhyming couplet in those verses that chronicle a historical event or inculcate an ethical truth. The real folksongs, however, are set to music…

Issues of the Hour

This period of time is marked by four phenomena. Three of them concern everyone, and one concerns religious youth specifically. 1. Despair…

The Rinsed Fences . . .

The rinsed fences dry themselves in the wind. The kneaded black earth turns softer under my feet. Soaked soil, tousled and wanton wind, What more can I want from you today? It seems to me that I’ve…

With the Holy Poem

With the holy poem clenched between my teeth, I set forth alone from that wolf-cave, my home, to roam street after street like a wolf with his solitary bone. There is prey enough in the street to…

Toil

Dress me, good mother, in a glorious robe of many colours, and at dawn lead me to [my] toil. My land is wrapped in light as in a prayer shawl. The houses stand forth like frontlets; and the roads…

The Machine

The machine, the tool. Walls without bricks—my cage. My hands’ holy blood Drips from the walls. But the blood of my soul Drips beyond the threshold Both out there and in here Drips the blood of…

Jeshurun

Jeshurun sings when they see him Tender beauty in her youth She plays and her violin is on her bosom And its singing brings gladness to the heart of the gloomy An unadorned graceful gazelle Embellish…

X-Rays

Work, tradesmen, shops, the town is there with old maids polished down by emptiness on haberdashers’ threshold where the antique sun brushes off jewels dusty with being looked at. Dressed up for…

Moon

An old sight too has its moment of birth. A birdless sky Strange and set apart. Facing your widow on the moonlit night stands A city plunged in crickets’ tears. And when you see a road still…