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.
The Miracle of Hebrew Reborn
Hebrew reborn—but, was it ever dead? Or, if it was, how can a dead language be born again?
The millions of Jews all over the world who say their daily prayers in Hebrew, not only understanding but…
The Beginning of December 1918
In came the beginning of the month of December 1918.
Like the cheerless, cold drizzle, dirty frozen air hovers over the fields. Everywhere fragments of sky seem to be scattered over mounds of earth…
The Cross
“Sonia! . . . Sonia! . . . Where the devil have you gone, child? Sonia!”
A Jewish woman calls her little girl in from the patio of her apartment.
It’s five in the afternoon, and as it’s midwinter…
Mendel the Bibliophile
Back in Vienna again, on my way home from a visit to the outer districts of the city, I was unexpectedly caught in a heavy shower of rain that sent people running from its wet whiplash to take refuge…
I Slept with a Murderer
I slept with a murderer every night of my life for two years. The murderer is dead now. He died some weeks ago in Chicago. That is why I am free to tell the tale.
I was a small boy at that time. I…
Poem
On Russian fields, in the twilights of winter!
Where can one be lonelier, Where can one be lonelier?
The doddering horse, the squeaking sleigh,
the path under snow—that is my way.
Below, in a…
Conversation with a Countryman
An old Jew asked me near the Jaffa Gate:
“Is the Saxon Garden still there? The same as ever?
Is there a fountain? At the entrance from Czysta Street
In the old days confectioners had a shop there…
With Gentle Fingers
With gentle fingers
The rain is softly
Playing sad melodies
On the black instrument of night.
We are sitting in the darkness,
Each in his own house
(The children have fallen asleep)
Listening…
Old Women
Aged woolen women, like old siddurim—moldy, mossy
Bound in coarse canvas;
Pointless bellies dangling after them like empty sacks,
Dried-out breasts, like horseradish roots, swaying back and forth.…
Red Evenings
Into its own gold, the evening melted.
Bullet laughed midair across to bullet.
Colossal city fought with city, giants—
The sky disintegrated in red fragments.
Hatless, soldiers fly across the…
Poem
Who cares if eternity won’t know me,
if no one ever watches my footsteps—
but now, right now, when hearts are burning,
I come with fists in my song.
Of course I’d like to sing myself away,
to cry…
Song of the Yellow Patch
How does it look, the yellow patch
With a red or black Star-of-David
On the arm of a Jew in Naziland—
Against the white ground of a December snow?
How would it look, a yellow patch
With a red or…