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[ . . . ] I have striven to transmit exactly the course of thought, the spirit, and the expressions of the [original] text; thus, you have before you not a “reworking” but a true translation.I have…
The death of an artist is never a random event, but a last act of creation that seems to illuminate the whole of his life under a powerful ray of light. [ . . . ] Why are people surprised when poets…
Zion my innocent one, Zion my desired,
To thee my soul yearns from far away;
May I forget my right hand should I forget thee, my beauty,
Until my grave is sealed upon me . . .
May my tongue cleave…
God’s grace has surely been overabundant.
Riches were mine. Hardly a day would pass
When human sympathy did not alight on me
Like manna from the sky.
I cupped my slender fingers to receive it
Ironic…