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See the Mount of Olives and the Greek monastery.
Minarets and cupolas abound,
Squares of yellow houses like honeycomb.
The valley of Josephat, white, dry fields—
There in the dell, where it is…
“All right,” someone will say, “granted you are a Pole. But in that case, why ‘we jews’?” To which I answer: because of blood “Then racialism again?” No, not racialism at all. Quite the contrary.
Th…
At the time of the shortest, sleepy winter days, edged on both sides with the furry dusk of mornings and evenings, when the city reached out ever deeper into the labyrinth of winter nights, and was…
I am in hiding in a loft over a stable, in a village, with good people. The risk of death hovers over me, as it does over all Jews these days, and the slightest lapse of vigilance on my…
“Even if you kill us, we will leave traces,” insists the poet. Poems such as this one affirm the power of humanity even in the midst of atrocities committed by neighbors.
For the role of scapegoat, the prestidigitators chose Jews.
Rattling around in the recesses of their memory were recollections about how prewar governments in…
In The Dead Class, the most famous of Kantor’s theater pieces from the 1970s, the main characters of the play are elderly men (who are to be understood as being dead), who return to their school desks…
The Holocaust has always been a problem in Polish postwar consciousness. The real issue is not the question of Polish complicity with the Germans during the war or of whether the Poles did all they…