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Someone in a tales is walking your rooftops.
Only he is stirring in the city by night.
He listens. Old gray veins quicken—sound
Through courtyard and synagogue like a hoarse, dusty heart.
You are a…
Contributor:
Moyshe Kulbak
Date:
1929
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A Jewish musiker,
Alex Herzovitch,
wound his Schubert around and around
like diamonds.
Morning to night, happy, oh happy,
he ground out that same old
sonata, ground it by rote, ground it
to a…
Contributor:
Osip Mandelstam
Date:
1931
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My beloved son and daughter!
I am writing these lines, my dear children, in the vale of tears of…
Contributor:
Elhanan Elkes
Date:
1943
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Day and night—
Shivering, we wait in bitter day
For moonlit night,
For the caressing moon.
Quivering, we wait in angry night—
For the sunlit day,
For the warming sun.
Day and night—
We must loom…
Contributor:
Leyb Kvitko
Date:
1923
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My steps are set down stiffly
on tired, empty paths.
This morning a little town of Jews
called me “Anti-Semite!”
All of them in wrinkles and in rags
out there pointing at me:
“Him! That guy! We…
Contributor:
Izi Charik
Date:
1925
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The death of an artist is never a random event, but a last act of creation that seems to illuminate the whole of his life under a powerful ray of light. [ . . . ] Why are people surprised when poets…
Contributor:
Nadezhda Mandelstam
Date:
1970
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Contributor:
Michael Iofin
Date:
1984
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You, my dear, will survive me and remember.
How could it be otherwise?
—From a letter
Old people? What can you write about old people?
They barely feel anything!
—From a conversation
Contributor:
Dina Kalinovskaya
Date:
1980
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A moon full of shimmering honey,
Exuding joy.
What bird beats in my heart?
Fly away—away, but not alone.
What am I shy? What?
Thick empyrean wine.
I’ll take a wicker bottle,
To the cemetery alone…
Contributor:
Elena Shvarts
Date:
1980
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Contributor:
Anatoly Kaplan
Date:
1960