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No one paid any attention to Aronek. He took a piece of bread from the cupboard, chose the largest carrot, and went to the neighbors.
At the widow Gitel’s it was warm and clean. From the ceiling hung…
Shlomo reclines within his shrine
Woe to my days, woe to my nights
Everyone knows how he is
Nobody knows about me
Woe to my days, woe to my nights
As if it means something to anybody.
If I have a…
There were two reasons why Di Yunge chose to carry on by themselves in a separate cafe. One was purely financial. The coffeehouse on Division Street was too dear for young writers, most of whom either…
The Triangle firm was housed in a modern building, practically a skyscraper, situated on the edge of the enormous open square in the heart of the city. The factory took up several floors of the…
Ay, a lifetime buzzed away . . . what is it, all in all? A dream, a short Friday in winter. . . .
Most people start to philosophize after a savory pot roast and a shot of liquor. Reb Nakhmen the…
At the exit, behind the plywood counter, sits the foreman holding a bottle of Coke to his mouth. “Hey you! Come over here,” he calls to Barukh.
Barukh’s heart skips a beat. Someone else once called to…
The back, the yoke, the yardage. Lapped seams,
The nearly invisible stitches along the collar
Turned in a sweatshop by Koreans or Malaysians
Gossiping over tea and noodles on their break
Or talking…
This photograph was made by the young graphic artist and photographer Solomon Yudovin in the context of his participation in Jewish writer, folklorist, and cultural activist S. An-ski’s famed…
The Yiddish-language socialist weekly Der arbayter fraynd (The Worker’s Friend) was founded in London in 1885 by Morris Winchevsky (1856–1932), a political activist and poet originally from Russian…
Members of the Bund (General Union of Jewish Workers in Lithuania, Poland, and Russia), Po‘ale Tsiyon, the Socialist-Zionist party, and Jewish trade unions, along with representatives of the Russian…
