Lunch Ticket
  • Current Issue
  • Archive
    • Issues Archive
      • Issue 21: Summer/Fall 2022
      • Issue 20: Winter/Spring 2022
      • Issue 19: Summer/Fall 2021
      • Issue 18: Winter/Spring 2021
      • Issue 17: Summer/Fall 2020
      • Issue 16: Winter/Spring 2020
      • Issue 15: Summer/Fall 2019
      • Issue 14: Winter/Spring 2019
      • Issue 13: Summer/Fall 2018
      • Issue 12: Winter/Spring 2018
      • Issue 11: Summer/Fall 2017
      • Issue 10: Winter/Spring 2017
      • Issue 9: Summer/Fall 2016
      • Issue 8: Winter/Spring 2016
      • Issue 7: Summer/Fall 2015
      • Issue 6: Winter/Spring 2015
      • Issue 5: Summer/Fall 2014
      • Issue 4: Winter/Spring 2014
      • Issue 3: Summer/Fall 2013
      • Issue 2: Winter/Spring 2013
      • Issue 1: Spring 2012
    • Genre Archive
      • Creative Nonfiction
      • Essays
      • Fiction
      • Flash Prose
      • Interviews
      • Lunch Specials
      • Poetry
      • Translation
      • Visual Art
      • Writing for Young People
  • About
    • Mission Statement
    • Lunch Ticket Staff
      • Issue 21: Summer/Fall 2022
      • Issue 20: Winter/Spring 2022
      • Issue 19: Summer/Fall 2021
      • Issue 18: Winter/Spring 2021
      • Issue 17: Summer/Fall 2020
      • Issue 16: Winter/Spring 2020
      • Issue 15: Summer/Fall 2019
      • Issue 14: Winter/Spring 2019
      • Issue 13: Summer/Fall 2018
      • Issue 12: Winter/Spring 2018
      • Issue 11: Summer/Fall 2017
      • Issue 10: Winter/Spring 2017
      • Issue 9: Summer/Fall 2016
      • Issue 8: Winter/Spring 2016
      • Issue 7: Summer/Fall 2015
      • Issue 6: Winter/Spring 2015
      • Issue 5: Summer/Fall 2014
      • Issue 4: Winter/Spring 2014
      • Issue 3: Summer/Fall 2013
      • Issue 2: Winter/Spring 2013
      • Issue 1: Spring 2012
    • Achievements
    • Community
    • Contact
  • Weekly Content
    • Friday Lunch Blog
    • Midnight Snack
    • Amuse-Bouche
    • School Lunch
  • Contests
    • Diana Woods Award in CNF
      • Issue 21: Summer/Fall 2022
      • Issue 20: Winter/Spring 2022
      • Issue 19: Summer/Fall 2021
      • Issue 18: Winter/Spring 2021
      • Issue 17: Summer/Fall 2020
      • Issue 16: Winter/Spring 2020
      • Issue 15: Summer/Fall 2019
      • Issue 14: Winter/Spring 2019
      • Issue 13: Summer/Fall 2018
      • Issue 12: Winter/Spring 2018
      • Issue 11: Summer/Fall 2017
      • Issue 10: Winter/Spring 2017
      • Issue 9: Summer/Fall 2016
      • Issue 8: Winter/Spring 2016
      • Issue 7: Summer/Fall 2015
      • Issue 6: Winter/Spring 2015
      • Issue 5: Summer/Fall 2014
      • Issue 4: Winter/Spring 2014
      • Issue 3: Summer/Fall 2013
    • Gabo Prize in Translation
      • Issue 21: Summer/Fall 2022
      • Issue 20: Winter/Spring 2022
      • Issue 19: Summer/Fall 2021
      • Issue 18: Winter/Spring 2021
      • Issue 17: Summer/Fall 2020
      • Issue 16: Winter/Spring 2020
      • Issue 15: Summer/Fall 2019
      • Issue 14: Winter/Spring 2019
      • Issue 13: Summer/Fall 2018
      • Issue 12: Winter/Spring 2018
      • Issue 11: Summer/Fall 2017
      • Issue 10: Winter/Spring 2017
      • Issue 9: Summer/Fall 2016
      • Issue 8: Winter/Spring 2016
      • Issue 7: Summer/Fall 2015
      • Issue 6: Winter/Spring 2015
    • Twitter Poetry Contest
      • 2021 Winners
      • 2020 Winners
      • 2019 Winners
  • Submissions
  • Search
  • Menu Menu
  • Facebook
  • Instagram
  • Twitter

Excerpts from Singing Through Clenched Teeth

June 6, 2020/ Yoysef Kerler, translated by Maia Evrona

Gabo Prize Finalist[translated text]

Midnight (1949)

Like frightened birds
after a hunter’s shot—
My dreams scatter in flight
when I open up my eyes…

My reveries, return to me,
I beg of you, I plead,
I command you!
But the empty distance echoes:
Who, who…

You—in the night,
with whom you persist
all alone.
You—the one who cannot hear, do you trust it?
Clearly whatever may come of you
is all the same to it.
Today that is the striking
of desperate fists
in its thicket:
“Why?” “Why?”


The Saucer in the Sky

The saucer in the sky,
that you promised me,
show me the stone,
where you smashed it into pieces.

And the mountains, the golden mountains,
which I forgave you,
where have they escaped to,
tell me, in which streams of smoke?

I have not broken
the saucer in the sky,
I have fallen and been beaten
down to my feet and through my bones,

And the mountains, the golden mountains,
they flew off in all directions,
when I only made the slightest try
to open wide my eyes.


Come to My Dream

No greeting, no sound,
of you I’ve had no dream…
Who then has been stationed
right at the entrance
to my sleep?

I’m sinking downwards like death
from fatigue, from the cold,
who then has been stationed
right at the threshold
of my fantasies?

A thought from somewhere
breaks forth from its chains,
makes a flash in the silence:
Make way to your dreams,
make way to your dreams!

But my nightly entreaty,
doesn’t succeed, it would seem,
so who has stood guard
at the edge of my dreams?
The KGB.


When My Love Goes to Sleep…

Sleep, my dearest,
go to sleep!
I will be rolling stones up peaks,
I will be bearing chains alone—
You, however, should blissful be,
my distant dearest,
my distant sweet…

Better that you not remember
those days and nights in ember,
when we were full of pleasure…

Sleep, my dearest,
go to sleep!
May you be cherished by your faithful lover,
may you be his only fire,
as once you were for only me!

Over me—the borealis.
Under me—the earth is darkness…
Still, my heart—no need to murmur—
Sleep my dearest,
go to sleep,
my distant dearest,
my distant sweet.


*

Polished in blood and flame,
washed in tears,
God willing, you might, my sweet,
just this once be clean!

The same fields mourn,
the same heavens freeze,
the same ears yearn,
the same—the uniforms.

And the eyes, too, bore
in from the other side,
and the terrors, too, lie in wait
on all your ways away.

But times, they say, do change—
the skies are now in tatters,
the faraway places are already others,
and different too—the distances.

And the Caucuses can no longer
help with all their hills and crevices
a poet find his shelter
from these ferocious police searches.


Spring (1956)

The sky and the forest
the people and the streets
are moving
in the wave-like whirl
of the water.
And the old truth
blooms anew in me
that every little thing—
grows smooth and clear in the current.
Through pain kept secret,
and through muffled weeping
I recite to myself
a prayer or a speech:
There is no joy to be found,
when water is still.
Flow, water, flow
in good health!


Emerging

I am emerging to a blinding evening—
Perhaps you were calling, or did it only seem?

I am departing on a rushing day—
Perhaps you caught wind of my weeping from so far away?

The cities are spinning and people are teeming
And the fiery cogs of time’s wheels are turning.

The millstones are milling, the cleaver is cleaving—
Day after night and night after day!

But let your voice at least be heard from afar,
let me feel your weight on my shoulders.

And stay—I will stay, this I alone know,
I am stronger than iron, I am harder than stone,

I burn up flame and freeze over frost
and as I sprout forth like the grass I split open rock.


From Afar

Better —if my tormented tears—
could fatten your fields,
better—if I could be the stone,
you could hurl me at your foes.

Better—if I could be the sand,
or the desert’s withered thorn,
better if I could be the venom,
your fury’s deadly curse—

Better than life, better than wandering far from home
and with a burning tongue in my mouth,
when longing arrives like a bear and digs in its claws
and buckles my knees…


August 12th, 1952 [Night of the Murdered Poets]

On this very day,
on this very day
the pain and the weeping
multiplied the prison bars.
The pain—in the heart,
the lament—through clenched teeth:
Bergelson, Markish, Kvitko, and Hofshteyn.

They were felled
in the middle of the night
and no one brought them any solace
before death.

And the only light
that anointed them at the end
came right at the flash
of the murderous volley…

On this day,
on this very day,
I raise up
and I carry
my song spattered with blood—

My poem—a gravestone
my heart— like a candle
but I will not now—
it turns out
fulfill my duty—
There is nowhere to place
any candle nor stone—
Bergelson, Markish, Kvitko, and Hofshteyn.

The Third Day a Bit of Bread

*
On the third day a bit of bread,
surrender the shirt off your back
flay away your own skin,
but don’t remain in foreign lands.

Every smallest shrub will beg you: stay!
Every stone will groan.
Your childhood—with her thin wail
will tear your flesh to pieces.

The local lullaby from your cradle
will turn old and gray,
but go and do not look back
and may it be an auspicious day!

Kerler Original1
Kerler Original 2
Kerler Original 3
Kerler Original 4
Kerler Original 5
Kerler Original 6
Kerler Original 7
Kerler Original 8
Kerler Original 9
Kerler Original 10
Kerler Original 11

TRANSLATORS’ STATEMENT

Yoysef Kerler was an important post-war Soviet Yiddish poet. Born in Ukraine in 1918, he published poetry as a young man and studied acting at the Moscow State Yiddish Theater. During WWII, he served with the Red Army, and his first book of poetry consisted of poems written during the war. This would also be the last book of Yiddish poetry Kerler would publish in the Soviet Union. Within a few years, all Yiddish publications were banned and, in 1949, Kerler was arrested. He spent the next six years in the Vorkuta Gulag, north of the Arctic Circle. Upon his release in 1955, he became one of the first prominent refuseniks, Jews trying to leave the Soviet Union for Israel.

The following poems were written in the gulag, as well as likely just before and after Kerler’s release. A number of Kerler’s gulag poems were initially published in Russian translation, disguised as poems about a Nazi ghetto. They were finally published in Yiddish in Israel, after Kerler arrived in the 1970s.

Ironically, Kerler was lucky to have been sentenced to the gulag, as he avoided the fate of many other Yiddish writers who were murdered by Stalin on the infamous “Night of the Murdered Poets” in 1952. He eulogizes them here. The poems from Singing Through Clenched Teeth also document his growing alienation from the Soviet Union—what he called his cradleland—and his increasing longing for Israel, which he began to refer to as his homeland.

Kerler often worked as a lyricist and many of his poems have a strong songlike quality. I find these to be his easiest to translate, though sometimes I wonder if that ease is simply a result of my enjoying them the most. There are terms, such as “saucer in the sky” that conjure up associations in English that are different from those in Yiddish. In English, “saucer in the sky” may sound like a UFO. In Yiddish, to “ask for the saucer in the sky” means to reach for the moon, for the impossible. In context, I have faith that English readers can figure it out.

Eastern European poetry often employs significantly different grammatical norms, with greater use of dashes. These differences are the trickiest aspect of Kerler’s poetry to translate, made more difficult still by the absence of capital letters in the Hebrew alphabet. I try to keep the artful use of dashes by smoothing out the grammar elsewhere, when I can.

Evrona_credit_O._Berk_Usta
Credit: O. Berk Usta

Maia Evrona is a poet, memoirist, and translator of Yiddish literature. Her translations of Yoysef Kerler were awarded a fellowship from the Yiddish Book Center, while her translations of Avrom Sutzkever have received fellowships from the NEA and ALTA. In 2019, she was the inaugural recipient of the joint Spain-Greece Fulbright Scholar Award, though her time in Europe would be ill-fated due to COVID-19.

Kerler_credit_Milberger, Michael

Yoysef Kerler was an important post-war Yiddish poet. Born in Ukraine in 1918, he served with the Red Army during WWII. He would later serve five years in the Vorkuta Gulag for so-called “anti-Soviet nationalist activity.” Following his release, he became one of the first prominent refuseniks.

Issue Archive

  • Issue 21: Summer/Fall 2022
  • Issue 20: Winter/Spring 2022
  • Issue 19: Summer/Fall 2021
  • Issue 18: Winter/Spring 2021
  • Issue 17: Summer/Fall 2020
  • Issue 16: Winter/Spring 2020
  • Issue 15: Summer/Fall 2019
  • Issue 14: Winter/Spring 2019
  • Issue 13: Summer/Fall 2018
  • Issue 12: Winter/Spring 2018
  • Issue 11: Summer/Fall 2017
  • Issue 10: Winter/Spring 2017
  • Issue 9: Summer/Fall 2016
  • Issue 8: Winter/Spring 2016
  • Issue 7: Summer/Fall 2015
  • Issue 6: Winter/Spring 2015
  • Issue 5: Summer/Fall 2014
  • Issue 4: Winter/Spring 2014
  • Issue 3: Summer/Fall 2013
  • Issue 2: Winter/Spring 2013
  • Issue 1: Spring 2012

Genre Archive

  • Creative Nonfiction
  • Essays
  • Fiction
  • Flash Prose
  • Lunch Specials
  • Poetry
  • Interviews
  • Translation
  • Visual Art
  • Writing for Young People

Friday Lunch Blog

Friday Lunch! A serving of contemporary essays published every Friday.

Today’s course:

Where Are You From?

August 5, 2022/in Blog / Majella Pinto
Read more
https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/DSC01302.jpg 1071 1600 Majella Pinto https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.png Majella Pinto2022-08-05 08:53:322022-08-09 15:56:53Where Are You From?

The Old Folks’ Home

July 22, 2022/in Blog / Karen Gaul Schulman
Read more
https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2022/07/Screen-Shot-2022-07-21-at-5.55.26-PM-e1658444219873.png 1608 1756 Karen Gaul Schulman https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.png Karen Gaul Schulman2022-07-22 13:21:012022-07-27 10:24:10The Old Folks’ Home

Peace, Love, and a lot of Loud Rock & Roll

June 17, 2022/in A Transfer, Blog / Sunee Lyn Foley
Read more
https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/0F6155F4-C1C9-45E1-BE9D-CA099003FB8E.jpeg 513 474 Sunee Lyn Foley https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.png Sunee Lyn Foley2022-06-17 14:31:102022-07-18 17:54:10Peace, Love, and a lot of Loud Rock & Roll

More Friday Lunch Blog »

Midnight Snack

A destination for all your late night obsessions.

Tonight’s bites:

QVC-land

May 6, 2022/in A Transfer, Midnight Snack / D. E. Hardy
Read more
https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2022/05/Diana-Hardy_QVC_Feature_Photo.png 533 800 D. E. Hardy https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.png D. E. Hardy2022-05-06 23:45:322022-07-18 17:54:56QVC-land

Escape Artists at the End of the World

April 29, 2022/in A Transfer, Midnight Snack / Lisa Levy
Read more
https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2022/04/waldemar-brandt-eIOPDU3Fkwk-unsplash-scaled-1.jpg 1707 2560 Lisa Levy https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.png Lisa Levy2022-04-29 23:49:582022-06-13 18:34:12Escape Artists at the End of the World

The House in the Middle

April 15, 2022/in A Transfer, Midnight Snack / Megan Vasquez
Read more
https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2022/04/alec-douglas-iuC9fvq63J8-unsplash-scaled-1.jpg 2560 1707 Megan Vasquez https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.png Megan Vasquez2022-04-15 23:45:322022-04-15 23:45:32The House in the Middle

More coming soon!

Amuse-Bouche

Little bites every Monday to whet your appetite!

Today’s plate:

My Mother’s Hands

August 8, 2022/in Amuse-Bouche / Annie Marhefka
Read more
https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/Annie_Marhefka-2-scaled.jpg 2048 2560 Annie Marhefka https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.png Annie Marhefka2022-08-08 11:55:122022-08-06 12:46:50My Mother’s Hands

Defy Gravity

August 1, 2022/in Amuse-Bouche / Megan Peck
Read more
https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/Megan_02_3-scaled.jpg 2319 2560 Megan Peck https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.png Megan Peck2022-08-01 11:55:122022-08-01 10:51:29Defy Gravity

Little Shrimp

July 25, 2022/in Amuse-Bouche / Karen Poppy
Read more
https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2022/07/Karen_Poppy_Headshot.jpg 800 600 Karen Poppy https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.png Karen Poppy2022-07-25 11:45:552022-07-25 11:14:12Little Shrimp

More Amuse-Bouche »

School Lunch

An occasional Wednesday series dishing up today’s best youth writers.

Today’s slice:

I’ve Stayed in the Front Yard

May 12, 2021/in School Lunch, School Lunch 2021 / Brendan Nurczyk
Read more
https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/05/SL-Insta-Brendan-Nurczyk-2.png 1500 1500 Brendan Nurczyk https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.png Brendan Nurczyk2021-05-12 10:18:392022-02-01 13:24:05I’ve Stayed in the Front Yard

A Communal Announcement

April 28, 2021/in School Lunch, School Lunch 2021 / Isabella Dail
Read more
https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/04/SL-FB-Isabella-Dail.png 788 940 Isabella Dail https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.png Isabella Dail2021-04-28 11:34:132021-04-28 11:34:13A Communal Announcement

Seventeen

April 14, 2021/in School Lunch, School Lunch 2021 / Abigail E. Calimaran
Read more
https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/04/SL-Insta-Abigail-E.-Calimaran.png 1080 1080 Abigail E. Calimaran https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.png Abigail E. Calimaran2021-04-14 11:22:062021-04-14 11:22:06Seventeen

More School Lunch »

Word From the Editor

The variety in this issue speaks not only to the eclectic world we inhabit but to the power of the human spirit. We live in an uncertain world. In the U.S., we’re seeing mass shootings daily. Across the world, we’re still very much in a pandemic, some being trapped in their homes for weeks on end, others struggling to stay alive in hospitals. War continues to wage in Ukraine. Iran and North Korea are working diligently to make nuclear weapons. The list goes on. Still, we have artists who are willing and able to be vulnerable with one another, to share stories and art to help us try and make sense of our world.

More from the current editor »
Current Issue »

Connect With Us

lunchticket on facebooklunchticket on instalunchticket on twitter
Submit to Lunch Ticket

A literary and art journal
from the MFA community at
Antioch University Los Angeles.

Get Your Ticket

We’ll keep you fed with great new writing, insightful interviews, and thought-provoking art, and promise with all our hearts never to share your info with anyone else.

Newsletter Signup
Copyright © 2021 LunchTicket.org. All Rights Reserved. Web design and development by GoodWebWorks.
Scroll to top