Showing Results 1 - 2 of 2
Restricted
Text
My day—
Is punctured like a sieve,
And ridiculed like a whim.
May winter whiteness blossom,
May autumns turn gray,
May summers whistle—
Become nightingales.
When a rye-wind
Would have twisted my…
Contributor:
Kadya Molodovsky
Places:
Date:
1935
Subjects:
Categories:
Restricted
Text
To be or not to be—that’s not the question.
Sense or nonsense—that’s my obsession.
For too long, Divine reckoning
has shredded human thinking.
The sum total of justice is a round number:
bright…
Contributor:
Aaron Zeitlin
Places:
Warsaw, Second Polish Republic
(Warsaw, Poland)
Date:
1936