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Day unto day bequeaths its fading sun,
and night after night laments for night.
Summer after summer is gathered in fall
and the world in its sorrow gives song.
Tomorrow we’ll die, the word in us…
Mendele the bookpeddler says: Whenever a Jew comes to a journey’s end, he feels as if his hips are breaking, his back aching, and his knees shaking from being crushed and squeezed…
[The writings of the nineteenth-century maskilic writers] Perets Smolenskin and Yitsḥok Erter opened cracks in the faith of Hasidic young men [like Asch himself]. Their life of [Talmud] study without…
Note 18 about ArtArt today is the only thing constructed, an end in itself, about which no more need be said, such richness vitality meaning wisdom: to understand to see.To describe a flower—poetry…
The puritanically strict observance of the closing hour in London, the lack of continental-style coffee-houses, and perhaps also the isolated situation of the by no means untroubled British Isles may…
A mighty gust of a cruel wind slid down from Mount Carmel toward the street.
After having flooded its lights, its tumult and the aromas emanating from its restaurants, it continued making its way to…
She heard a sudden loud squeaking, so she raised her head. Seeing the cart she let out a happy shout: “A troupe!”
Her mother came out from the kitchen and looked through the window. “A fat lot of good…
He came across the meadows towards the sunset, his upturned face pushed forwards catching the light, and glowing also with another radiance than the rich, reflected glory of the heavens.
A curious…
Giorgio [Entering]:Am I disturbing you?Olga:So it seems! What good wind brings you here? Sit down.Giorgio:Thank you. I’m returning from the Exposition . . .Olga:Ah, you went! . . .Giorgio:.…
The problem of creating a body of translated literature in Yiddish is very important and must be solved systematically. This serves the interests of our original [Yiddish] literature best.
[I will…