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The Last Breath is one of the genre paintings depicting the lives of fishermen and their families for which Jozef Israëls was best known. In this scene, a woman is weeping over the body of her husband…
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…
In the middle of the summer Meir’s father gave in to his uncle and aunt’s pleas and went away with them to spend a week in the country, and in obedience to his request Meir went over to the apartment…
[…] I want to tell you about my brother’s ghost.
I had so looked forward to seeing him again: my Schorschi, my Czech brother, who had sent us a few postcards from Theresienstadt. But he wasn’t there…
Hear O Israel, in the depths of our home
There lives alone the empty room
What will we do with it, that empty room
What will we do with it, that empty room
Shall we enter and shove ourselves between…
Still, still, let us be still.
Graves grow here.
Planted by the enemy,
they blossom to the sky.
All the roads lead to Ponar,
and none returns.
Somewhere father disappeared,
disappeared with all our…
Now in the suburbs and the falling light
I followed him, and now down sandy road
Whiter than bone-dust, through the sweet
Curdle of fields, where the plums
Dropped with their load of ripeness, one by…
You Will Be Wrapped in Silk
“And how do you merit to live so long?”
—Because I know there is need to consider.
At my birth someone said, “He will be wrapped
in silk.” And now the guests are…
Nuska Shkolnik, who had come on a four-day leave, cried those four straight. He’d been a whiner since childhood, and Lyovka never did manage to knock that vice out of him. All anyone had to do was…
“The birds, Regina! The birds! The birds!” he cried out. “You don’t hear? Our child…Issachar!…Issachar!…Regina!…That bird…Issachar…that bird…that bird.…”
When Luna entered the room with her bridegroom…