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With evening a whistle. Again the sweating store room
opens its throat wide, and we march out in formation
worn down by the heat wave and a day so long:
hard working soldier-women.
And why should…
The days of my life pass by, dissolve like mist.
I don’t know the what and when; I don’t know the who.
Baal and Astarte have grown alien to me.
My kingdom and my foes grow alien, too.
I don’t…
On the beginning of the new rebbetzin’s life in Zhuzhikovka, the locals say:
She, the rebbetzin, was brought here a few years ago from some distant city in Poland.
There, in that city, the Polish one…
On rare occasions Aunt Joya di Pinso would come over, and whenever she came, the house would be full of good spirits. The minute she set foot on our threshold, pausing for a moment, as was…