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One day I came back from my synagogue and sat down in my room to take breakfast—a bowl of milk and some bread, instead of the compote juice and butter cake that had been my customary…
Hey, women, spotted with typhus and riddled with rakes of fingers
Across autumn heads of woe,
Are you fruitful? Do you multiply? How many times each?
In whorehouses? On floors?
In the stable? In…
Boys, honor the pregnant woman. Treat her carefully and care for her, for who knows the merit of the essence already formed in the womb?
The greatest individuals on earth, pillars of society, and…