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We’re striding in your front ranks,
marching mankind—
with the cool and with the fervid,
with the proud and the courageous—
step after step!
On his high gibbet, the old god
swings and swings.
Patched…
Contributor:
Dovid Hofshteyn
Places:
Kyiv, Russian SFSR
(Kyiv, Ukraine)
Date:
1919
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On this ancient trunk
With hanging branches, gray flax
I’m a young branch.
To grow: my sole passion.
Green shoot
rising
high
to the bright,
I’ll bring red blossoms
to argue:
World, I’m right!
From…
Contributor:
Dovid Hofshteyn
Places:
Moscow, Russian SFSR
(Moscow, Russia)
Date:
1920
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The rinsed fences dry themselves in the wind.
The kneaded black earth turns softer under my feet.
Soaked soil, tousled and wanton wind,
What more can I want from you today?
It seems to me that I’ve…
Contributor:
Peretz Markish
Places:
Kyiv, Russian SFSR
(Kyiv, Ukraine)
Date:
1919
Subjects:
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Hyacinth and mallow was I to God: lifelong
Only this pure sun fills, for each, the earth,
And an angel urges: “Bud, child, and bring forth
Among the biting thorns, your festive song.”
The damp…
Contributor:
Saul Tschernikovsky
Places:
Odessa, Russian SFSR
(Odesa, Ukraine)
Date:
1919
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After you, the killed of the Ukraine;
After you, butchered
In a mound in Gorodishche,
The Dnieper town . . .
Kaddish
No! Heavenly tallow, don’t lick my gummy beards.
Out of my mouth’s brown streams…
Contributor:
Peretz Markish
Places:
Kyiv, Russian SFSR
(Kyiv, Ukraine)
Date:
1921
Categories:
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Day grows darker
And darker.
Mobs are advancing on the town,
Mobs clotted with blood,
Made remorseless by killing children,
Lustfully they advance,
To rip off heads,
Feeble, melancholy heads.
They…
Contributor:
Leyb Kvitko
Places:
Kyiv, Russian SFSR
(Kyiv, Ukraine)
Date:
1919
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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…
Contributor:
Peretz Markish
Places:
Kyiv, Russian SFSR
(Kyiv, Ukraine)
Date:
1920
Subjects:
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Out of frayed sackcloth—breasts of filthy cataracts,
Like raw potatoes, branched with rooted blue veins.
What shall we trade? Salt? How much do you want?
There’s a dead child’s hat still here.
In…
Contributor:
Peretz Markish
Places:
Kyiv, Russian SFSR
(Kyiv, Ukraine)
Date:
1920