Chaim Nahman Bialik (Khayyim Nakhman Bialik)
On the Threshold of the House of Prayer (29)
The Last Dead of the Desert (67)
Surely the People Is Grass (71)
The Dead of the Wilderness (104)
The Dead of the Wilderness (119)
Images and Thoughts to Inspire Your Intellect and Infuse Your Imagination!
“It seems to me I live.”
“Now listen! Listen to me!” she said, emphatically.
“You make me sick.
Where do they get yuh, your the’ries and your ideas?
Nowhere!
Live, kid, – live!
What’d become of all of us sons-of-bitches,
if we stopped to argue out every step we took?
Stick down to earth.”
Brush looked at her with furrowed brow and said in a low voice,
“It seems to me I live.”
* * * * * * * * * *
George Brush is my name;
America’s my nation;
Ludington’s my dwelling place
And Heaven’s my destination.
(Doggerel which children of the Middle West were accustomed to write in their schoolbooks.)