ZISHE LANDAU
Nacido en 1889 en Plotzk, Polonia, en el seno de una renombrada familia rabínica. En 1906 se radicó en los Estados Unidos donde fue uno de los líderes del grupo literario Di Iungue —Los jóvenes—al lado de Leivik, Mani Leib y otros. Falleció en Nueva York en 1937.
Un lejano llamado
Un lejano llamado. Un son imperceptible.
Vuelves asombrado la cabeza.
Y como una víbora venenosa en tu mirada
se enciende, cansina, la tristeza.
Sin embargo, alguien murmura detrás tuyo:
—Bajo llave, la pequeña puerta
quedó cerrada en el gran castillo
y el camino yace perdido entre la hierba.
Espinas
En la oscuridad tus ojos se hacen más hermosos,
alegría y paz brotan de tí.
En la oscuridad tu pequeño pie es más pequeño
y más tierna, más flexible te haces tú,
En la oscuridad tu suave voz suena más suave,
penetra y embriaga de promesas el corazón.
Tus dedos pálidos son más pálidos y largos,
y más tierna, más flexible te haces tú.
Afuera ladran los perros
Afuera ladran los perros
y el viento sacude los cristales.
Aunque tal vez los perros yazgan tranquilos sobre sus cadenas
y el viento, sobre una rama, dormite en silencio;
pero yo estoy tan mal ahora
como si se sacudiera el viento en mi cerebro
y en mis oídos ladraran perros.
Oh, cuántos olores.
¡Oh, cuántos olores hay en el mundo!
Huelen ciudades y aldeas, fábricas y calles;
tienen su olor las porcelanas y las almas;
cada generación tiene su olor y cada clase;
cuerpos, motivos y conceptos huelen;
tienen su olor los sentimientos, las guerras, los poemas,
etcétera, etcétera, etcétera.
¡Y no habrás de librarte nunca
de aquel olor en que nacieras!
¡Es más fuerte e implacable
que prisiones y cadenas!
¡Oh, tú,
olor apenas perceptible de mis maravillosos versos!
De esos que escribiera
sobre aquella, para aquella, a aquella que quiero,
la de cansados, perezosos, complacientes miembros.
Oh, a tí
sólo ha de comprenderte
aquel que marcha ausente por la vida
y lleva sobre sí una carga
de la cual, tal vez sólo lo librará la muerte.
¡Oh, olor de mis maravillosos versos!
Antología de la poesía
ídish del siglo XX
Selección y versión de
ELIAHU TOKER
To the Ciechanower
I'm not free - of my zaides
There's a long chain behind me;
I am not free - my every step
Is closely followed from close eyes!
Relaxed, but with a firm hand
I continue in this iron chain.
My blood feels you close, Ciechanower
Because as was your life, so does mine carry duty.
If I want to or not, I accept it with love.
Still for this iron destiny
My heart will not fear
Because just as you, so feel I the holiness of the duty
Here is the net of duties and laws,
Oh, how many there are and joy!
And only a slave can think that an eagle
Doesn't hold his arms outstretched in his cage!
Oh, Reb Avraham Ciechanower,
I, like you, stretch out my arms.
(From the book, Poems (Lider) by Zishe Landau.
Published by “Inzl” publishers, New York, 1937).
I. Opotashu
Monograph:
Zisha Landau z"l
by Hyala Landau Bass, daughter.
He had strong associations with the life style and impressions of his patriarchal post, with the customs and joys of living with his grandfather and grandmother. He underscores the blood ties and the similarities in characters between his great grandfather, the holy Rabbi Avraham Tchekhenover and himself in the poem "Tzum Tchekhenover" and writes poetically about his grandmother, the beaming Strikover Rebbetzin. This family influence, his rabbinical home in Plotzk in his childhood and his realistic worldly education left their mark upon his personality and poetic creativity.
"The bubbe strolls around beaming
dimples grace her face.
the table glitters with porcelain and silver,
and fat candles burn in massive candelabra
everyone is busy preparing, it is the first Seder.
We children are seated at the table for a long time,
with bright eyes, we swing our feet,
the long bench beneath us creak.
The bubbe walks around in satin and in pearls,
she resembles a bashful bride.
For the first time
the children and the grandchildren are together in her home.
She looks at us and kneads her hand continuously
and knows not what to do with herself for joy,
quietly she runs away,
comes back quickly carrying something in her apron,
she suddenly lets fall hundreds of goblets on the table.
'I don't want to count you children'
the bubbe's voice rings with the silver."
In his "Modern Cradle Song" we read:
Child, as the silent stones
Germans wonder here about
they bring fear to every one
they sharpen their long swords
and he who comes in their way
end his days.
No children are spared
and death goes with them
they burn town after town
erase them from the world, God!
In a second poem "If War is War" (1917) we see Landau the enemy of the German war makers. The sensitive Landau opposed war in general.
"If all is unity, why does the heart become fearful
merely with the thought that German forces are coming?
If all is unity, we would want to reach
the hour when Germany will enslave the world?
Yes, war is war and blood is blood, perhaps
All truths are lies
in the face of war which will come soon
when Germany will lie before us destroyed."
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