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He felt a gnawing sensation. He knew it was hunger. Nothing in his mouth since morning except for those slops, the slops from the Judenrat kitchen, a watery soup that was almost free, just fifty…
But the distant lulls were merely the frame of the picture; the feast for Joseph’s eyes was the green Valley of Jezreel itself, the cradle of the Communes. Twenty years ago a desolate marsh cursed…
Great men were once able to perform great miracles.
When the ghetto of Prague was under attack and marauders wanted to rape the women, roast the children, and murder everyone, when it seemed that all…
A hundred thousand men, women, and children, some of them fugitives still suffering the punishment of Cain, others just sloughing the Ghetto skin, yet others in whose ears the “hep, hep” of the…
[ . . . ] We have nooses fastened around our necks; when the pressure abates for a moment, we utter a cry. Its importance should not be underestimated. Many a time in history did such cries resound…
A round number. At first glance it looks silly and seems to have no specific meaning. A detached number such as this can be likened to those gray people who go through life alone and die without…
Here you have him, the proud Jew. The Jew who ruled his kingdom with a high hand in complete despotism: here is the Jew who never heeded anyone’s advice, who did everything with his own hand and…
Where shall I start? My thoughts are in turmoil. There is an overpowering desire burning in me to put in writing as speedily as possible all that has happened to us in these years of war, especially…
While imprisoned by the Nazis and awaiting her death, Gusta Dawidsohn-Draenger recalls her last supper with other resistance leaders in the Vilna ghetto.
Good night, wide world.
Big, stinking world.
Not you, but I, slam the gate.
In my long robe,
With my flaming, yellow patch,
With my proud gait,
At my own command—
I return to the ghetto.
Wipe out…