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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…
The house known today as the House of the Sun is a large stone structure next to the synagogue. But long, long ago it was called the Devil’s Head, and it was…
Joyous, free, the bird will sing,
Trembles on his throne the king,
Trembling is not good for me—
Like a bird I sing so free,
As winds prance,
In a trance,
Wild and blind, I roam and dance,
One street…
Pantel the wagon driver stretches out under the covers and sits up, yawning. The house is dark but a faint light is just beginning to penetrate through the peepholes in the shutter.
“It’s…
Some sort of strange, humid day. . . . Some sort of day with a ragged sun and low, dark clouds, like threads of smoke, already happened once before in the past: in distant years long ago, when our…
The author is not among those who adhere to the doctrine that “money talks.” Knowledge talks, conscience talks, but money is merely counted—more by some, less by others. If the author…
I have the good luck to be a Polish Jew.
If I were a Greek Jew, a Dutch Jew, a Turkish Jew, or some other kind of Jew, I would be miserable. Who would pay any attention to me and who would be…
Like every shtetl Medzibosz has a main street, and side streets and back streets. Nowadays the old hunched little huts have mostly vanished, and there are new houses in their place—not everywhere.
Thi…
Nothing else makes me really rage
as when a poor man does something [wrong]
he is lost here and there
everyone would happily drink his blood.
But what the rich do here
is always all right
people let…