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Signs of the new life and of the new “construction” in Trostinets can be discerned, strange as it may sound, in the destruction of the synagogues…
[ . . . ] From the other side of the fence was heard a murmur of Jewish voices as of people praying aloud. On a carpet before the door of the courtyard sat Murad Khan, and…
[ . . . ] In time, I lost my shyness. I became a “big shot” in one of the Am Olam groups. In our debates it became clear to me that it was still a beautiful idea to start colonies in which we…
He didn’t take it seriously the first few times his roommates suggested that he start peddling images of Jesus, of Yoshke, as he preferred to call him. He thought they were kidding. How could they be…
And if Moyshe-Leyb, the poet, tells
That he saw Death on the high waves—
Just as he sees himself in a mirror,
And it was in the morning, around ten—
Will they believe Moyshe-Leyb?
And if Moyshe…
The machine, the tool.
Walls without bricks—my cage.
My hands’ holy blood
Drips from the walls.
But the blood of my soul
Drips beyond the threshold
Both out there and in here
Drips the blood of…
You, my master, my hidden enemy! I see you hidden
In the wind that is around all, in all, everywhere:
In my uneasy sleep, in my dark fear at morning,
In my labors by day, in my bread and my salt.
C…
Across from me in the subway sat the madonna
Crossing her legs,
Bending over a tabloid.
She read about a cashier-girl who jumped into the water
When her bridegroom left her with a rising belly.
The…
It’s hard to be clever these nights,
And useless to be modern.
Useless to smile knowingly and observe with melancholy
The language bastardisms of history:
“The government of the Republic is delivered…
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…