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Snow has fallen, with no light. A month
has gone by now or two, since autumn in its monkish cowl
brought tidings my way, a leaf from Ukrainian slopes:
“Remember it’s wintry here too, for the…
Not seldom, when in conversation my partner draws me into a plural—that is, as soon as he includes my person in whatever connection and says to me: “We Jews . . .”—I feel a not exactly tormenting, but…
Dense crowds proceed at dawn
Through Theresienstadt’s still empty streets
Five abreast curving around corners into squares.
The beast checks if anybody has stumbled.
Today God’s chosen people are…