Last night, I was watching a TV programme about the acclaimed
Yiddish poet, Avraham Sutzkever.
In my view, he is probably the best poet that the Yiddish language ever gave rise to.
Fortunately for me, Yididsh is my first tongue. What a
blessing it has been to be able to read and study this and other great Yiddish
poets in that language, in the context of the Yiddish culture
Sutzkever was born in the town of Smorgon, my mother’s hometown. As a result of the Ribbentrop-Molotov agreement, their part of former Poland fell into Russian hands. Shortly after the Nazi invasion into the Soviet Union, in the middle of 1941, they set up a Ghetto in Vilna to where my parents and their family were transferred. Sutzkever, also, ended up there.
Vilna, its rich Jewish history and Jewish life have been part of the fabric of my upbringing. Prior to the war, I had a large family there. My late grandmother visited that city on a regular basis. I used to listen to her stories, her vivid description of famous landmarks, its thriving Jewish culture, Yiddish theatre and renowned scholarship of Yerushalayim D’Lita” (Jerusalem of Lita). That city was an inseparable part of me.
I have been to Vilna three times. During one of those times, I spent a summer programme at the Vilnius University Jewish Institute with my daughter. It was there that I was introduced to the great Avraham Sutzkever.
One of his poems that was taught in the course, “By the Golden Chain,” (Songs from the Diary), especially, caught my attention. Here is my free translation of it from the Yiddish:
Sutzkever was born in the town of Smorgon, my mother’s hometown. As a result of the Ribbentrop-Molotov agreement, their part of former Poland fell into Russian hands. Shortly after the Nazi invasion into the Soviet Union, in the middle of 1941, they set up a Ghetto in Vilna to where my parents and their family were transferred. Sutzkever, also, ended up there.
Vilna, its rich Jewish history and Jewish life have been part of the fabric of my upbringing. Prior to the war, I had a large family there. My late grandmother visited that city on a regular basis. I used to listen to her stories, her vivid description of famous landmarks, its thriving Jewish culture, Yiddish theatre and renowned scholarship of Yerushalayim D’Lita” (Jerusalem of Lita). That city was an inseparable part of me.
I have been to Vilna three times. During one of those times, I spent a summer programme at the Vilnius University Jewish Institute with my daughter. It was there that I was introduced to the great Avraham Sutzkever.
One of his poems that was taught in the course, “By the Golden Chain,” (Songs from the Diary), especially, caught my attention. Here is my free translation of it from the Yiddish:
“By the golden chain […]
Already time to unbutton out of darkness the secrets
Where tiny hearts of slime continue to beat in the ocean’s
laboratory
Now it is time to drink wine with long drowned
Sailors in water – innkeepers on deck of ocean, in a cabin
Sailors in water – innkeepers on deck of ocean, in a cabin
And hear them tell of pirates, albatrosses
And Love of a thousand years, and everything not yet -
tranquil.”
It struck a familiar note. As an undergraduate in English Literature, these words reverberated those of another poem, a very well known one. It was Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s poem, “The Rime of the Ancient Mariner,” written in the late 18th century.
It struck a familiar note. As an undergraduate in English Literature, these words reverberated those of another poem, a very well known one. It was Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s poem, “The Rime of the Ancient Mariner,” written in the late 18th century.
In Coleridge’s poem,
after the ancient mariner commits a sin by killing the albatross, guilts hounds
him. The ship he was on was wrecked by a storm and its crew of sailors sank to
the bottom of the sea. The mariner was its sole survivor.
Without getting into the discussion on why Sutzkever chose
that metaphor, I remember being astonished and utterly awestruck at the fact
that he was familiar with Coleridge’s work. Moreover, I was very impressed by
how well he incorporated it into his poem.
After having delved into some of his other poems, I understood the profundity and talent that Sutzkever possessed. I was intrigued, curious and challenged by his poetic gift and decided to learn more about him. What I discovered was overwhelming.
Poetry, Yiddish poetry it turns out was Sutzkever’s survival mechanism during the harsh daily reality of life in the Vilna Ghetto. That did not come as a surprise to me. Having been exposed to the pearls of Yiddish culture, values, its humour, I was aware of their potential to generate a perennial spring, keeping its speakers’ spirits and minds forever alive and alert. They were the source of vitality, endurance, and resilience that prepared, guided and supported Jews through the monstrous chapter European Jewish history.
Sutzkever wrote a poem every day during his stay at the Vilna Ghetto. He was also involved in the vibrant cultural life and activities in the Ghetto and was even able to salvage some literary works.
After having delved into some of his other poems, I understood the profundity and talent that Sutzkever possessed. I was intrigued, curious and challenged by his poetic gift and decided to learn more about him. What I discovered was overwhelming.
Poetry, Yiddish poetry it turns out was Sutzkever’s survival mechanism during the harsh daily reality of life in the Vilna Ghetto. That did not come as a surprise to me. Having been exposed to the pearls of Yiddish culture, values, its humour, I was aware of their potential to generate a perennial spring, keeping its speakers’ spirits and minds forever alive and alert. They were the source of vitality, endurance, and resilience that prepared, guided and supported Jews through the monstrous chapter European Jewish history.
Sutzkever wrote a poem every day during his stay at the Vilna Ghetto. He was also involved in the vibrant cultural life and activities in the Ghetto and was even able to salvage some literary works.
Following their liberation, Sutzkever, his wife and young
daughter made their way to Eretz Yisrael.
Unfortunately, in the early days of the nascent state,
Yiddish was discouraged from being taught, spoken. It was suppressed and even
banned. To modern day Yisraelis, it was the language of the Diaspora, the
language of the people who had allowed themselves to be led to slaughter
without much resistance. Many mocked and ridicule me for speaking it with my
grandmother. Many continued to mock me for teaching it to my daughter.
I vowed, then, that I will do whatever is in my powers to preserve that great and wealthy culture. It is the fiber of my essence, the culture that helped shape my destiny and that of my offspring. I, we owe it to hundreds of years of Jewish survival and to all the immolation our Jewish brothers and sisters have endured to keep its practice alive and thriving.
It will not stop with me. It cannot stop with me.
I vowed, then, that I will do whatever is in my powers to preserve that great and wealthy culture. It is the fiber of my essence, the culture that helped shape my destiny and that of my offspring. I, we owe it to hundreds of years of Jewish survival and to all the immolation our Jewish brothers and sisters have endured to keep its practice alive and thriving.
It will not stop with me. It cannot stop with me.
No comments:
Post a Comment