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Oh, Father of great mercy
In sunset’s flame there fades
My cradle land
That was once nearer to me than my salt-crusted shirt
Where with my brother Russian
I shared more than once
A measly bite of…
It did our hearts good to see Vaytshepl. It did Pinye too much good. “Why, it’s Berdichev!” he shouted. “Children, I swear, we’re not in London at all, we’re in Berdichev!” The next thing I know he’s…
Lord, I want to return to your word,
Lord, I want to pour out my wine,
Lord, I want to go, to go to you,
Lord, I do not know what should be done,
I am alone.
I am alone in empty air,
In terror of…