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When I was born, Robert G. Mehlman was at the peak of his glory. He was more than a major talent. But within five years there wasn’t much of that glory left, and my mother sometimes compared him to a…
As a symbol of the past—all sadness and humility—my mother’s face swims up and rises before my eyes. Her eyes two black abysses, anguish peering from them; her lips moist and rosy, a smile always…
A. O my sisters! O my daughters! O women, my people and pride! Hear my words, understand my musings, consider my way, for I am your brother. I have gathered for you beautiful words, chosen from the…
And I didn’t have time.
Now it is certain
I didn’t have time.
Half my life.
It is now allowed
To be silent.
My shadows grow
With the stride of the sun.
I am the man
Who didn’t have time.
Mordecai walked home from the village on the path that bordered the forest. All the talk of the elders in the village chief’s house had intoxicated him more than the strongest whiskey. Under his…
I have a friend, a teacher, with shaggy hair black as pitch.
He has a child (his wife is still a child too)
and when he comes home, difficult and gloomy,
she runs to meet him, like a quivering wave:…
How could the wise of heart envisage the final outcome of the matter,
Seeing that, when he was just a quarter of a year old, they placed him in the bulrushes?
None has arisen like him amongst the…
This is the line of Shem. Shem was 100 years old when he begot Arpachshad, two years after the Flood. After the birth of Arpachshad, Shem lived 500 years and begot sons and daughters.
When…
Here I begin; listen to me, great and small.
Once there was a mighty king—as in the stories begun by girls. His peer in virtue was not to be found. He had a land that was stately indeed. He…