Showing Results 31 - 40 of 74
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Mother, there’s a tedium today,
some sadness that’s got into everything,
even an ambitious man’s dreams
show signs of a slow despair.
Mother, try loving
your self-despising son
on a day he’s alone
an…
Contributor:
Umberto (Poli) Saba
Places:
Trieste, Kingdom of Italy (Trieste, Italy)
Date:
1900–1907
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And yet she was the jewel of perfection to all far and near
Who had not seen such splendor, all who came from north and south
From all lands and gathered there, the distinguished
Who were drawn to…
Contributor:
Benjamin ha-Levi Ashkenazi
Places:
Salonika, Ottoman Empire (Thessaloniki, Greece)
Date:
ca. 1545
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It’s hard to imagine Uncle Silvester making Uncle Pucho eat soap.
Uncle Silvester was always a man of principles.
As proof, there’s the story…
Contributor:
Ana María Shua
Places:
Buenos Aires, Argentina
Date:
1994
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Behold her blood flows in my blood,
Behold her voice within me sings—
Raḥel the herder of Laban’s sheep,
Raḥel—mother’s mother.
And so the house is too constricting for me
And the city—alien,
For…
Contributor:
Rakhel (Rachel Bluwstein)
Places:
Kevutsat Degania, Mandate Palestine (Deganya Alef, Israel)
Date:
1927
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Something is wrong between me and the story I want to write. Whatever subject I touch on, after five or four, sometimes even two pages, either the story throws me out or I throw myself out. As if I…
Contributor:
Monika Maron
Places:
Berlin, Germany
Date:
1999
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Credo in a kind of
American jewish Hamlet-like
bagel, too round for action
yet leavened enough by contact
with the near-dead past—you call it
landscape, I call it history—to provide
a layered vantage…
Contributor:
Bob Perelman
Places:
Philadelphia, United States of America
Date:
1996
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For Jews, the Cossacks are always coming.
Therefore I think the sun spot on my arm
is melanoma. Therefore I celebrate
New Year’s Eve by counting
my annual dead.
My mother, when she was dying…
Contributor:
Linda Pastan
Places:
Potomac, United States of America
Date:
2002
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I was sitting next to Brodsky, and Sonnenshein was sitting opposite us, near the back of the truck. From the moment we had crossed into Germany, something had happened to him. His pipe never left his…
Contributor:
Hanoch Bartov
Places:
Date:
1965
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These nocturnal passenger trains in wartime have their own peculiar sounds. The deportation wagons have a way of screeching, like an eagle or a vulture—whereas this kind of train whines and groans as…
Contributor:
Béla Zsolt
Places:
Budapest, Hungarian Republic (Budapest, Hungary)
Date:
1947
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I always thought
I had been here before.
Each year of my patched-up life
I mended the fabrics
of my decrepit, tattered world.
In memory I recognized faces and smiles,
even my father and mother…
Contributor:
Jacob Glatstein
Places:
New York, United States of America
Date:
1943