Moyshe Kulbak

1896–1937

Moyshe Kulbak is widely considered one of the most popular and important Yiddish writers of the early Soviet period. A teacher, poet, and novelist, Kulbak was a leader of Yiddish cultural organizations in all the cities he lived in, including Vilna, Berlin, and finally Minsk, then the capital of the Belorussian Soviet Socialist Republic. His work was firmly modernist in style and content, characterized by lyricism in his poetry, dynamism and reflection in his prose, and a sense of rootedness in the landscapes and experience of everyday Lithuanian Jews throughout all his work. His novel Zelmanyaner is a masterful satire of Jewish life before, during, and after the Bolshevik Revolution, a text filled with insight and irony in its description of generational conflict and cultural adaptation. Kulbak was a victim of the particularly violent Stalinist Purges that liquidated much of the Soviet Yiddish intelligentsia in Minsk.

Entries in the Posen Library by This Creator

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The Zelmenyaners: A Family Saga

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One day Bereh turned up in the yard. An unseasonably warm glow coated the world, glazing the storm windows with an unexpected spring sheen. He walked slowly down the…

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Boitre

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Arn-Wolf—parnes khoydesh (chairman of the kahal, the community council)Beyle—his wifeStere—his daughterRabbiFirst and Second Dayen (judges of the bes din…

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Ten Commandments

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My grandfather’s kinsman, a Jew who tamed bears, Performed in the market towns; By day his beast was confined in chains; At night, they danced under the stars. Nicknamed “Ten Commandments,” the man…

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Grandfather Dying

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Gray as a dove, toward evening, my grandfather came from the pasture; He made up his bed and said a prayer of confession, Then inwardly bade his farewell to the world And closed his eyes, utterly…

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Summer

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Today, the world was unfurled once more and renewed. The teeming earth, the whispering green, the swelling bud. Everything shook, as the tense body of a virgin Becoming a joyful wife might be shaken…

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Vilna

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Someone in a tales is walking your rooftops. Only he is stirring in the city by night. He listens. Old gray veins quicken—sound Through courtyard and synagogue like a hoarse, dusty heart. You are a…