Showing Results 1 - 10 of 25
Seven versts from Kaunas stood the oldest fortress in Lithuania. After the war, it was all battered and shot up. Bricks and scraps of iron lay strewn about the place, which had once stored weapons and…
Had I fastened
The cradle on a rafter,
And rocked it—and rocked it.
My little son, my Yankl.
But the house has vanished
Into a fiery dome,
How then can I rock
My little son, my own?
Had I…
For Joseph Kohen Balarin of blessed memory, to his brother, in Prague.
Wisdom brings strength to the wise, dear brother from a city of strength, elevated leader and rabbi, my brother and head, may…
He then returned to his city, filled with bitterness, humiliated, oppressed, and weak. He found his wife Ḥaya—who had been a picture of robust health and womanly valor when he had set out on his…
Always, by the time the humid, breathless, summer night lifted its veil and a quiet, rosy dawn emerged, when some glimmers of soft, opaque light began to filter through the dried muddy, dusty window…
. . . An empty street. An unfamiliar shack. A tightly shut gate. And hanging over the gate, over the dead street, over us all—a Cossack cap with a raspberry-colored band. A trail of smoke from an…
One year later, a Sunday afternoon. The front room. Jacob is giving his son Mordecai [Uncle Morty] a haircut, newspapers spread around the base of the chair. Moe is reading a newspaper, l…
The question arises: How did my mother, who, with her first husband, the feldsher, resided in spacious rooms, with brass handles on the doors, come to be with Father, a village Jew who…
Pass on, pass on, you lonely grandfathers,
With frightened beards covered with snow,
In the last sorrow, in the final grief
You’re still here, the final witnesses.
Pass on, pass on, you lonely…
Inside the house they took their seats. Though it was lighter than a few evenings before, a bulb or two would have helped. Eli had to hold his briefcase towards the window for the last gleamings. He…