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Sample Sources

The sources below are those contained in our three curated collections—covering themes of Passover, Gender Roles, and Holocaust Resistance. They represent a fraction of the thousands of sources that will be available when the full site launches in 2024.
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In the Golden Land

Would you, mama, believe if I told That everything here is changed into gold, That gold is made from iron and blood, Day and night, from iron and blood? —My son, from a mother you cannot hide— A…

Aftergrowth

Behold I have not plowed nor have I planted, I have not prayed for the rain. And suddenly, see! My fields have grown Sun-blessed grain instead of thistle. Is it the aftergrowth of ancient produce,…

Fallen Leaves

Words forsaken—fallen leaves, Let the wind scatter you, And let me forget you. I will remain like a wintry tree Behind closed eyes, still And silent. Both the night will cradle me, ay-lu, And the…

Once I Was Young

Once I was young, hung out in doorways, listening to Socrates. My closest pal, my lover Had the finest chest in Athens. Then came Caesar, and a world glittering with marble—I the last to go. For my…

February

[ . . . ] I never loved properly . . . A little Judaic boy, I was the only one around To shiver in the steppe wind at night. Like a sleepwalker, I walked along tram tracks To silent summer cottages…

The Weeping of Generations

On the white garments of my great-grandfather the cross of the middle ages flames anew. My great-grandfather sits at the seder, holding a staff from a wild almond tree to rouse the forefathers. Not…

Alphabet Letters

In the Bronx, in Brooklyn and in New York City, My cousins all have stores. Seven cousins with seven stores, like commandments. Business people with long lists of going bankrupt. And my family-name…

Escape from Freedom

We see that the process of growing human freedom has the same dialectic character that we have noticed in the process of individual growth. On the one hand it is a process of growing strength and…

Black Flakes

Snow has fallen, with no light. A month has gone by now or two, since autumn in its monkish cowl brought tidings my way, a leaf from Ukrainian slopes: “Remember it’s wintry here too, for the…