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The dreadful angel in me is invisible
today, his screeching almost still.
You startle at its whisper. Is it
someone come to pay a visit
or a grasshopper tapping at the sill?
It’s he. Oh, he is…
Blessed is the match, consumed in kindling flame.
Blessed is the flame that burns in the heart’s secret places.
Blessed is the heart that knows, for honors sake, to stop its beating.
Blessed is the…
Great was the joy in the mid-1950s in Budapest’s Klauzál Square, in the house of a widow with many children. Those lining up before her vegetable stand in the market saw her smile for the first time…
Wind bells over the river with an
Indian name: transplanted homelessness
disguised as a transplanted home.
The garden jingles. Odorous sandalwood censers,
kimonos and saris flashing well among
the…
At the Realschule fathers and mothers were lined up in single file in the director’s room. Parents who took the occasion very seriously appeared in couples with their young hopefuls. The director…
One of the comrades on sick call had a chat with an army guard. This is the account he gave:
“How stupid can you get, I ask you, what are the limits of human stupidity! This…
These nocturnal passenger trains in wartime have their own peculiar sounds. The deportation wagons have a way of screeching, like an eagle or a vulture—whereas this kind of train whines and groans as…
A Holocaust survivor grapples with the question: should one bring children into the world after experiencing the horrors of the death camps?
My precious heart, my handsome soldier son,
I write this letter with my blood to you.
Since you’ve had to take the Kaiser’s shilling
our world has turned red of a fiery hue.
The big decisive battle…
Lajos Kelemen was an upright and honest man throughout his life. He arrived in this world in June, thereby sparing his mother the ever-present concern whether or not he would catch a cold while being…