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It is possible, it is very possible, that here it is impossible to live, but here we must remain, here we must die, sleep…there is no other place…—Y. H. Brenner
Before continuing my story about the events in Pinsk in the summer of 1940, I would like to digress briefly into the realm of the miraculous. Let us imagine the impossible—something fantastic and…
God, blood has overflowed the soul; among us, the weight of his killed kindred
lies heavy on the head of every living creature.
And it is Sinai, it is Nevo now.
As for the goyim…
She turns the pages, naked uncles
so naked and skinny, run and
even aunties with fannies showing
and others in pajamas as in a show
with yellow cloth stars sewed on.
And everybody so ugly and thin,
a…
We know that a writer has no power except in the pen. Nevertheless there are times when it behooves us to alter the ordinary manner of expression. There are times when the author, too, must depart…
And I will wait upon the Lord,
who hides His face from the house of Jacob,
and I will look for Him. (Isaiah 8:16)
I endeavored to place before the educated reader all the literature of redemption…
Where pain weeps, it is the Jew who weeps.
Where a bullet is fired, it is the Jew who falls.
—Why is the dog barking near the fence?
—Someone threw a rock at him, at the Jew’s dog.
We…