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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…
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…
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…
Friends of my age,
My happy generation,
We strode, pained-pleased,
Through the wreckage of whole worlds.
Before the living and the dead
fell on our portion
Inherited old skins
of ourselves—and…
Stalinstan,
Stalinstan,
Who is present and on hand
From the Party,
From the Union?
Who was on his way
Somewhere else today,
When a chain of men caught him
And then brought him
To…
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…
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…