Showing Results 1 - 10 of 11
I am Mani Leyb, whose name is sung—
In Brownsville, Yehupets, and farther, they know it:
Among cobblers, a splendid cobbler; among
Poetical circles, a splendid poet.
A boy straining over the…
With this number, Di yugend passes into new hands—the hands of its writers.
It is no secret that Yiddish writers, especially young Yiddish writers—and most of the contributors to this monthly journal…
Laboring women, suffering women
Women who languish in factory and home—
Why stand at a distance, why build not our temple
Of humanity’s joy, and of freedom sublime?
Help us to bear the red banner…
For Zishe LandauQuiet, quiet, no loud talk!Stand bent over, pale and dark,Crouched up in a ball of pain,Shut up—holding your breath in.Out of the deep nightHe’ll ride up on a white horseHeard by no…
Deep in the woods stands my tent,
No one will discover me,
Late at night and at first dawn,
I hear the revel of the spring
From the deep roots underneath,
To the moss-covered trunks,
From…
[The writings of the nineteenth-century maskilic writers] Perets Smolenskin and Yitsḥok Erter opened cracks in the faith of Hasidic young men [like Asch himself]. Their life of [Talmud] study without…
With this collection, we intend to launch a particular trend in Yiddish poetry which has recently emerged in the works of a group of Yiddish poets. We have chosen to call it the Introspective…
Oh white spirit—
My princess!
The spring rips,
Tears at your dress.
The air is full of spring’s fame
Crowned with florets
Carrying its perfume
Spring’s fresh scents.
Bringing your death,
My white…
Let no one cross my threshold,
Nor disturb my silence;
I no longer wish to hear
The noise of people and speech
From them I crawled away
In tears, into my corner,
To listen at last in quiet
To the…
As Yiddish poetry grew more modern, even modernistic, as it grew freer in rhythm, subtler in tonality, more artful and sophisticated in imagery, it also grew more Jewish—I was almost going to say more…