Eventually, Leivick is forced to deliver Daniel to be sent to war, recounted in a later poem appearing in ‘In Treblinka bin ikh nit geven’ (1945) which I have shared pieces of previously… #Yiddish
In his post-Khurbn writing he often portrays himself (and also American Jewry) as the father and the son, the knife and the throat — the (potential) victim and the culpable-through-insufficient action.
This leads to an interesting passage in ‘With the Surviving Remnant’ which seems generic without any biographical information. Much less so knowing about his own son.
We have a false redeemer, too, touching on Leivick’s preoccupation with the Moshiach.
For me, this was the first time I encountered the name ‘Hitler’ in Yiddish. Not a thing easily forgotten.
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More ‘Nature’ — as I said, it’s one I’ve worked on a bit more and here’s the first stanza, pushed into slightly better English shape #Yiddish
And here I move laterally to the poem ‘Tired’ by a contemporary of Leivick’s, Langston Hughes.
Hughes, too, wants to cut nature, in two. Not how it works, not its design, not if there’s some pre-determined order — but why it is rotting from the inside. It’s infected, not divine
@aglaser‘s excellent book, Songs in Dark Times, shows how Leivick teeters on the edge of recognising where he stands as visually, if conditionally, white in America. And he does teeter, even talking in interview about the danger of the whipped becomes the ones who wield the whip.
‘Nature’ is one of the poems I asked for permission to try publishing a translation of formally. With no response, I prefer not to post too much of a ‘final’ version, with rhyme restored, rather than a partial literal working one for analysis. #Yiddish
Another wrestling with the natural and the divine, where do we come from, where do we go, why and how. Can we only be what we are destined to be? If God is in everything, then where is God in the sanatorium, in death? We foreshadow the pantheism of ‘Spinoza’
A tie here to ‘Darwin’ and ‘Again a Neighbour Died’ where we think about origins and what the purpose of life is. And the terrifying prospect of someone else’s end —
I think there’s a real sense in Leivick of time/history/fate — if not quite being a flat circle — being helical. One reaches the same juncture, only further down the road. Every sacrifice the first, every murder the first, everything repeating….just displaced in time.
If we jump ahead again to ‘Leaf on an Apple Tree’, Leivick writes from Munich in 1946 (a rarity in that the poem is explicitly dated, from a time when he said he was largely unable to write poetry) having visited Dachau, about the ‘Cain-brotherhood’ of Germany.
The ploughed field returns there, too, in ‘Not There’ — the evidence of murder being ploughed under.
If we look ahead to ‘A Leaf on an Apple Tree’ again — almost twenty years later — we find Leivick compelled to join in singing about a different kind of belief, with different prisoners — Ani Ma’amin, with the survivors of the Shoah in DP camps. #Yiddish (Con’t)
In fact, the three members of the delegation to the DP camps in 1946 each come away with their own version of ‘Ani Ma’amin.’
Efros, firmly in the Zionist camp, casts Israel as the redemption of the Jewish people.
Leivick doesn’t break fully with the Soviets— and was quite popular in Russia, visiting in 1925— until 1939 and the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact (the initial break was in 1929, and the Freyheyt walkout over Hebron) #Yiddish
The May Day poems also continue beyond that point, through ‘In Treblinka bin ikh nit geven’ and there is even in that volume a temporary mending of fences, it seems, with the Soviets when they are anti-Nazi.
It’s true Leivick wasn’t particularly humble about his writing and seemed to believe he was always destined for something special — though I am getting the impression he was introverted by nature and didn’t necessarily enjoy public speaking. #Yiddish
He seemed to like to take the opportunity to leave — in his prose pieces, he’s quite often slipping out the door and going for a wander. Perhaps it’s more about the fact that he *can* leave and exercises the option in order not to lose it.
He’s also fairly self-effacing about what he considers a ‘bad’ poem in Tsarisher Katorge, where his cellmate asks Leivick if he can translate it for him and he perseverates, saying it’s pretty bad in Yiddish and could only be worse in Russian.