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For Zishe LandauQuiet, quiet, no loud talk!Stand bent over, pale and dark,Crouched up in a ball of pain,Shut up—holding your breath in.Out of the deep nightHe’ll ride up on a white horseHeard by no…
The fire of joy in solitude. . . And since in vain I have made this journey,The ground giving way to my burning steps,Let me embrace this ardorIn abstract revelry* * *
With his asses, male and female,
His woolly sheep and billy goats,
His oxen and his camels
Bearing wineskins on their backs,
With his wives and his handmaids,
His servants and his…