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No chapter in the history of the Jewish people during the last several hundred years has been as shrouded in mystery as that of the Sabbatian movement. On one point, at least, there is no longer any…
Our state is young, with a girl’s years, just fourteen. Still without her shoes, as the poet says. But she seems old, many generations old. In these few years, old age has pounced on her. No one is…
I do not lift my supplicating hands,
O King, O Lord, O Father, yon on high,
To You whose throne dwells in the starry lands,
I neither plead nor yet Your might defy.
I do not ask of You to end my…
[ . . . ] And all the more so with our brethren the people of Israel who come from the lands of the dispersion, who do not know and have not seen the way in which every person called by the name of…
Successive, often polemic interpretations, citations in a context of sacred doctrine or of political-historical opportunity, construe, around the archaic, cardinal words in the Hebrew canon, a…
The historiography of no people is so beset with the pretentious and condemnatory views of dilettantes as is that of the Israelites, which everyone fancies to know from the relevant sources. Thus, no…
My grandfather stood six feet three in his worn-out bedroom slippers. He had a long grey beard with streaks of white running through it. When he prayed, his voice boomed like a choir as he turned the…
In the supplement of Sürgöny, a certain…
In our past lie the answers to all the problems that our present time raises, and in it also lie the keys to the secret gates of our future. [ . . . ]
Onto ground already prepared since the time of…
Vilna, my great matriarch, an established Jewish city,
Jerusalem of the Exile, an ancient nation’s consolation in the north!
This [poem] is your patched kerchief, like the roof of the old synagogue,…