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Vilna, my great matriarch, an established Jewish city,
Jerusalem of the Exile, an ancient nation’s consolation in the north!
This [poem] is your patched kerchief, like the roof of the old synagogue,…
With the holy poem
clenched between my teeth,
I set forth alone
from that wolf-cave, my home,
to roam
street after street
like a wolf
with his solitary bone.
There is prey enough in the street
to…
My feet walk the streets of this blessed city,
Only yesterday full of faithful adherents of Sinai.
My eyes do not have the courage to look up.
The bitterness of my soul is great, O Holy God!
I…
The Avenida de Mayo
glows with a virginal light beneath the Sabbath sky.
That light strikes
the window pane that displays your portrait:
Laban amidst a flock of gaily colored lottery
tickets, green…
The long-suffering city took in people with the strangest ideas, philosophers, freaks, madmen, each with his own nutty flavor, who vanished as suddenly as they appeared. Sometimes Jerusalem seemed to…