Family histories from former Jewish communities of Mlyniv, Ukraine

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Translation of Diary Entries in Notebook 2

July 1915 - March 1916 (17th of Av, 5675 – 25th of Adar II 5676)

A wonderful, annotated critical edition of the Hebrew Diary was released in 2015: Yitzhak Lamdan’s Diary. 1914-1924. Edited by Avidov Lipsker. Ramat Gan: Bar Ilan University, 2015. The original diary was written more than 70 years ago and has entered the public domain. Permission to translate the critical edition and notes was authorized by Avidov Lipsker via email in October 2025.

The translation of Lamdan's diary entries in his second diary follows below or you can return to the overview, the concise summaries or the interpretive summaries of the diary entries.

Diary 1 (June 1914 - September 1914) | Diary 2 (July 1915 - March 1916) translated below | Diary 3 (November 1916 – May 1917) | Diary 4 (January 1919 – December 1919)

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Diary 2 (July 1915 - March 1916)

July - December 1915

July 1915 (Mlynov)
July [25], 1915 | July 28, 1915

August 1915 (Mlynov)
August 10, 1915 | August 11, 1915 | August 17, 1915 | August 21, 1915 | August 26, 1915

January - March 1916

February 1916 (Hubyn Pershyi)
February 1, 1916 | February 6, 1916 | February 13, 1916 | February 15, 1916 | February 19, 1916

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The Context of Diary 2

Yitzhak begins writing in his second diary notebook in July 1915. Ten months have passed since he finished his first notebook. He is now seventeen years old. Perhaps his hiatus in writing paralleled the Russian success in the War. In the battle of Galicia from late August to early September 1914, Russia captured Lviv (Lemberg) and had significant gains in the Austrian area of Galicia. In the winter of 1915, the Russians held off an Austro-Hungarian offensive and the fighting remained relatively distant from Mlynov in the Carpathian Mountains with the Austro-Hungarian army significantly weakened. But in the spring of 1915, the Central Powers launched a series of offensives, especially the Gorlice-Tarnow Offensive, pushing the Russian forces back from Galicia. The Russian army was forced to retreat and suffered great losses in the July-September offensive operations. This change of fortune became known as the Great Retreat. It is clear already in July 1915, from Yitzhak’s first entry, that the fear of fighting is already on the minds of Mlynov residents who are being forced to dig ditches by the local military authority, who are now in charge of town.

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[page 1]

My Diary^[+]

Yitzhak Lamdan^[1]

***

July 1915

[July 25,^[1a] 1915, Sunday, 14th of Menachem Av, 5675, Mlynov]

I ask myself: Why do I write “my daily” [i.e., diary]?^[1b] Is it due to so much variety in my life here in the small town of Mlynov that I need to record them for posterity? Don’t I already know in advance all the content that will fill the pages of the diary: despondent writings filled with poisonous grief and sorrow. So what is it that compels me to produce this daily of mine? These objections and questions are surely righteous ones and were it not for the reason given below truly I would not produce this diary of mine. At a time when I find myself in a depressing situation and despair, a time when I experience doubts and wander about her dwelling places,seeking a refuge and there is none

A time the hand of despair is upon me with great strength
my bitter heart already endured, and of suffering I despair (nilʾētî)
and I surely seek a shoulder [lit. lap] of a devoted brother or sister
[with whom] to share all my feelings and to spill my tears (dimʿôtay)
It is a time I surely seek, but I don’t find – – –
(“With despair,” from my poems)

Yes, I cannot find a shoulder [lit. lap] for my depressed soul, nor have I been able to spill my guts into the heart [lit. lap] of a single consoling poem. The poetry muse does not always come to me – and thus the only shoulder [lit. lap] to lean on is the diary. Inside the pages of this notebook, I am able to recount and fully detail my momentary situation and my despair in all their fullness. And afterwards, my agitated spirit feels a bit calmer, after spilling my feelings to the shoulder [lit. lap] of my diary. Here is the answer to my questions and objections that I brought above [i.e., why bother writing?] Facts about me^[1c] that would make her [the diary] happy I know I won’t write in my notebook, because I know their non-verbalization [lit. their non-existence]^[1d] will therefore have [the following effect] in my daily:

A self-accounting my soul will value
with the shadows because the day is ending
("In the Corner," from my poems)

[Translator's note: a poem written at a later date was inserted here on the blank back of page 1 of this notebook. For the ease of the reader, the poem and its footnotes are placed below at the end of this diary entry, rather than here as in the original Hebrew edition. As a result footnotes ^[2] and ^[3] in the original edition refer to the poem and the list of angels now reproduced at the end of this diary entry.]

[3] I have no patience. What should I write about? In general, the mood [of those] in my town is such that it does not permit the mind [of anyone] to focus on anything outside themselves. Thus there is nothing to do at home and most of the hours of the day I spend in the store sitting and yawning and listening intently to every idle conversation. What can one do? Therefore, when they began to call anew for work in the trench digging, I didn’t wait long [to learn] if they would call me or not, and this morning I got up early, prayed, drank tea, grabbed some food and drink for the road and a hoe – and went out like that. And I too was with all the people who went to dig, because generally my work is not that difficult, and on the contrary, it is very pleasant knowing that it [hard work] strengthens the body and accustoms it in general to physical labor. Let me get used to it! Who knows perhaps finally with the help of the God of Zion I will be fortunate to go up to the Land of my ancestors to wet her land with the sweat of my brow, and with what great inner pleasure I look upon my hands, tanned a bit from the sun, a light copper look to them, and my face suntanned a bit. For three days, two weeks ago, I went to the trench work. The first day was very hard, and although all my limbs hurt when I got up in the morning of the second day, I pushed myself and hurried to get ready and went again to the work. During the second day the work period was already easier, but [4] […]^[4] that same day I was not able to sleep even a wink, all my limbs ached and what strong fever attacked me. I didn’t sleep all night and in the morning when rising I was not able to move my hand or foot. A very terrible pain attacked all my limbs. With great effort I sat up in bed, and despite all this I got up and went outside another time to go to the work, but this time due to the [extent of the work] the residents of the town were required from that day and following to join the work, every day only thirty people [joined] from the row of houses, so that it soon wasn’t necessary for me to go – and I remained at home, but had it not been for this, I was totally ready to go even that time.

And now it has been about two hours since I returned from the trench work; the work today was very easy. And we also returned [from work] early, namely, at the third hour in the afternoon [3 o'clock], because today is Sunday and at the request of the Christian farmers who were forced today to go to the trenches – they freed them at an early hour and the Jews also enjoyed this reprieve.

Around noon (lit. "the twelfth hour"), we rested and ate our meal which each one brought from his home. I and one other youth made ourselves a kind of tent with […] like this: opposite the width of the trench, we leaned several hoes and on them many stalks of corn like [5] on the roof of "the Sukkah" [the temporary structure made on the festival by that name]. Under the shade, we also lay corn stalks, and we spread out our coats on them, and thus sat in this tent and ate our food. After the food we lay down to rest. Meanwhile, the youth with whom I sat with in “our tent” went to get water, and I remained alone “in the tent.” I lay down and reflected. Strong longings for the Land of Israel attacked me, to work on her cultivated land and her mountains and enjoy her clear open skies. Silently, silently I sang to myself "My Soul's Desire,” by M. Z. Mana [Mordechai Zvi Mana]: “Where, Where is the Holy Land?”^[5]… and I saw that the desire of my soul was meanwhile far from me, the ravages of time have strongly hurled her back and forth, is she coming near to me? ... Oh no, if only I already was able to extricate myself and flee from here, from this hellhole (gehinom) of afflictions for our people. One thing the present time and situation taught me, and one thing I decided from their influence: flee from here and escape from the terrible exile (galut), from the torture, the terrible insults, and all the malicious misfortunes that surround you on every side - [and flee] to the land of the ancestors. Do not let the thoughts entice me lest I suffer a great deal there in the land of the ancestors.^[5a] No! Much better to live a life of sadness in a free Hebrew environment – than live a life of comfort in an exilic environment full of insults and torture for you as a Jew.^[6]

[6] There in the land of the ancestors, there in that place I will feel myself to be free in a Hebrew environment, there in a place where I have self-respect and I am able to protect myself against all those who set upon me and my belongings – my future is there and not here!

***

I am stopping my writing because I am hurrying in response to the call of Moshe Pinchosovitz^[7] to the military council^[8] to write there during the discussion of the trench work.^[8a]

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[As noted earlier, the following poem written at a later date was written on the back of page 1.^[8b]
It is reproduced here at the end of this diary entry:]

[2] Lamentation how quietly it will flow
the waves of its tiny brook (haqāṭ)
and prayer to the God of the heavens
it will pray and it will mumble quietly (ballāʾṭ)
My God! Woe, my God, look
all my friends died already (kǝbār)
all of them destroyed trampled under it
without the mercy of the bitter fall season [hēmar].^[8c]
Withered and extinguished on me are the willows [also meaning guarantees]
that are here on my lips [i.e., banks] planted [nǝṭûʿôt]
they will not sing among their branches
The birds so proper there (hanāʾôt).
My beloved sun expired
with my haphazard guideposts (happǝzîzîm)
that submerges them always always
inside my delightful wave (hāʿallîzîm).
She [i.e., hope] is buried there on high
In the clouds so black (haššǝḥōrîm)
And I long
for a guideline, straight and ablaze (ʾwrym).
Withered are all the coastal flowers
the grasses have lost their green (hāʿăśābîm)
To bury them the clouds have swallowed [them] up
the moon and the stars (hakkôkābîm).
All my friends all of them died (mētû)
Please, my God, also kill me [ʾôtî]
from this life, it is better for me my death [môtî].
The passing wind to the brook it calls (qôrēʾ)
run to your prayer (tǝpillātǝkā)
and with the coming of furious winter (furious = hazzôʿēm)
you will be like one of your friends(ḥăbērêkā)…
a ground of ice, a blanket of snow
will cover your broad waters (mēmai׳k)
stop and end the unfortunate brook
the whispering of your movement (glai׳k).
Lamentation how quietly it will flow
slowly the movement of the tiny brook (qāṭ)
and a silent lamentation, a sorrowful song
it will lament quietly (ballāʾṭ)
Yitzhak Lamdan [his signature]

[List:]

Angels of Winter^[8d]
Minister of the winter
Kapuriel painter of pictures, builder of mansions
Karkhiel [Angel of Ice]
Shalgiel [Angel of Snow]
Sayariel [Angel of Storm]
Kuriel [Angel of Cold]
Chirakyiel (look this [is maker of?] white dust, the snow squeaks under the feet). [Angel of Squeaky Sounds]

Read the interpretive summary or return to the top of the page .

Notes

[+] [Translator’s comment:] See comment on note 1b below. [HS] ↩

[1] The front page of this small notebook is written with relative sloppiness for this diary, language mistakes and deletions abound in it, and it is crammed with Russian scrawl on all its sides. In the middle of the column on the side aligned with the poem appears a drawing of the face of a young man holding a pen in his mouth, that was drawn with the same pen that wrote the text. [Translator’s comment:] Yitzhak uses his Hebrew surname Lamdan here. The first time he called himself Yitzhak Lamdan in the diary was September 2, 1914 in Notebook A. [HS] ↩

[1a] [Translator’s comment:] In the body of this diary entry, Yitzhak makes clear he is writing on a Sunday. His next entry is on Wednesday, July 28, 1915. Given his tendency to write every few days in his first notebook, it seems likely he began this notebook that Sunday, July 25, 1915. [HS] ↩

[1b] [Translator’s comment:] On my translation of “daily” versus “diary,” see discussion in in Diary 1, July 2, 1914, note 10a. Here at the beginning of his second notebook is one of the relatively few times that Yitzhak uses the term “my diary” (yômānî) [instead of my “daily” yômônî], though he still puts the term in quotation marks as if he is still being ironic about his frequency of writing. Then here in the first sentence of this diary entry he shifts to the ironic "my daily." [HS] ↩

[1c] [Translator’s comment:] I’m understanding the Hebrew word here as a possessive plural, עובדותיי. [HS] ↩

[1d] [Translator’s comment:] Yitzhak seems to be saying that he won’t write about the good things happening to him because it would defeat the purpose of the diary which is to be a place for a self-accounting and a taking stock. One is reminded of his early entries in June and July 1914 when he observed the beauty of nature around him but suppressed those thoughts as inappropriate as he longed for the Land of Israel. [HS] ↩

[2] The poem is written on the back of the front page. It is divided its length into two columns via a dividing line in the middle. It is evident that it was not written as a continuous part of the diary; the writing does not fit the regular style of writing of the diary and there is no indication of date. It is possible that the back of the front page remained at first empty and somewhat later Lamdan utilized the empty space to write the poem after the pages of the diary were already written. ↩

[3] To the left of this list [of angels' names] is a picture of a bearded man’s face. [HS] ↩

[4] The page is cut off in the top right corner, and it appears a word or two is missing. In the continuation of this notbook, this symbol [...] will signal text is deleted (water stains, moisture and so on) or text that can't be deciphered because it is smudged. ↩

[5] The Jewish Russian poet Mordechai Tzvi Mana (1859-1886). Nicknamed Ha-Metzayer [or HaMaZyr] (an acronym for the “young man Mordechai Tzvi born in Radoshkovitz”). He died from tuberculosis at age 27 in his birthplace in Belorussia. A quotation from his poem, "My Soul's Desire": "Where, Where, Holy Land / My spirit yearns for her?! The air of your land is the living soul, / healing also the body." See The Collected Writings of Mordechai Tzvi Mana, Warsaw: Toshia: 5657 [1896-1897], pp. 147-48. ↩

[5a] [Translator’s comment:] It appears that with this sentence Yitzhak is hearing a counter voice in his head arguing with him not to go to the Land of Israel lest he suffer. He then talks back to that voice and argues the contrary. The voice in the head arguing against going to the Land of Israel is reminiscent of the characters who attempt to dissuade him from going to Masada in his famous poem. [HS] ↩

[6] These lines are emphasized with a thick line underneath. The word "Jewish" has an additional thin line, the thickness of which is like the thickness of the letters of the text. ↩

[7] In subsquent entries, "Mr. Pinchosovitz " is mentioned as one of the wagon drivers who is going out of Mlynov to Dubno. It is possible he is from the family of the lawyer Pinhovitz, who is mentioned in the Dubno memorial book as someone who stood at the head of the Jewish people's party during the Revolution, about two years after this (in the latter part of 1917). See Yitzchak Ajzik Feffer, "Public and Party Activism" in Y. Adini, ed., Dubno: A Memorial Volume, The Dubno Organization in Israel, 1966, translated by Selwyn Rose, pp. 191-92. [Translator’s comment: A lawyer named Pinkhasovitsh is mentioned in passing in the Mlynov-Muravica Memorial Book, p. 59. “Shtetele Mlynov,” by Yisroel (Sol) Berger. [HS] ↩

[8] The military council that bridged between the civilian authority and the military in the period before the War. ↩

[8a] [Translator’s comment:] It is not clear to me from the language here whether Yitzhak was called to the meeting to take notes. [HS] ↩

[8b] [Translator’s comment:] See note 2 describing this poem as a later edition to a blank page of the diary. [HS] ↩

[8c][Translator’s comment]: The poem has rhymes. I’m indicating the Hebrew rhymes in this poem with transliterations in parentheses. Note, however, that while the Hebrew rhyming words are always at the end of a line, the translated word does not always fit best at the end of the phrase, though the transliterations are placed there.[HS] ↩

[8d] See note 3 above. [Translator’s comment:] I have found no references to these names of angels in other sources. It appears that Yitzhak was making up the names of angels of winter, punning on the words for snow, ice, etc, and perhaps this was an unfinished poem. [HS] ↩

***

[July 28, 1915] Wednesday in the morning, 17th of Menachem Av [5675] in the terrible period, Mlynov

I haven’t written anything yet in the diary because I was occupied all these days, spending the entire day by the trenches as a note taker.^[8e] Every day at 8 am [lit. the 8th hour] I leave the house and return for lunch at noon [lit. the 12th hour] and wait until 3 pm or 3:30 [lit. the third hour and the half] and then go a second time to the trenches and stay until near evening.

Thus far I received a ruble a day. This week I don't know whether or not they will increase the wages for me.

During the past week when I was sitting by the trenches dug by the Jews of Mlynov,^[9] non-Jews were digging around them and they threw rocks on us and ridiculed us; I was sitting behind a pile [of earth] and on a scrap of paper I wrote down these words for my diary: [7]

“Let me record this as a memory! Perhaps with the help of the
“God^[10] of Zion and Jerusalem, when ‘my soul's desire’^[10a] will be close
“to realization: to go up to the land of our ancestors for which my soul is consumed
“and longs – [and if later] my spirit flags, and cowardice attacks me [about]
“taking this step: to leave the homeland of my ancestors [or parents]
“to go up across the ocean knowing the difficult barriers that I will meet
“there – Let me well remember, then, the proof that convinced me
“now via this terrible attack, how hard and terrible is the exile (galut)
“how ugly, poor, despised, tortured, chased, beaten at the hands of
“every coarse and evil person is the Jew; how wretched are they and despised
“ much more than the wild animals and beasts of the fields. Let me then remember
“this well and know that it is better to live in the land of the ancestors
“in a Hebrew surrounding and to be free to suffer sadness and grief
“than live life here in this terrible and difficult exile (galut).
(*" “18th of Av 5675 [July 29, 1915].^[10b] [Written] by the trenches when the coarse
“and loathsome non-Jews are insulting us and throwing rocks
“at us).

And yesterday in the morning before I wrote the [diary] entry, the following incident befell me: while walking to the [military] chancellery^[11] to return the list […]

*) I stopped writing at this spot yesterday morning but because I stopped in the middle [of the sentence] and hurried to the trenches I am now finishing the story:

[8] of names I copied of the Jews who were digging.^[11a] While walking on the road of the village, I encountered one soldier who yelled “Hey Kike [Zhid]!”^[11b] He threw a rock at me that struck my head. Behind him another soldier was walking who laughed and lifted his bandaged cloak to scare me.^[11c] Walking behind these soldiers were non-Jews on the way to the trenches and in seeing the soldiers’ activity, they also hurled insults at me. Is it possible to describe my feelings at these moments? Is it possible to describe how much blood was storming and boiling inside me, but it is necessary to angrily bite the lip and remain silent, and you can’t let the storming feelings out...And I would go out of my mind from so much anguish and pain – were it not for one ray of distant light which is: the Land of Israel. As the pain and sorrow grow, all my heartstrings^[12] will express [the following]: “Who will place me now on the land of the ancestors in a Hebrew setting.” Argh! Cursed, cursed is the exile (galut) and woe to us the wretched ones who wallow in her midst. Until when? And where to? And if incidents so light in value (light in value, in my opinion, in their being extraneous, but in truth they have a great moral impact on the soul) like those mentioned above – make my spirit storm inside me in this manner – what will they who truly suffer say? [For example] those who are killed, burned, murdered, and expelled, and who had all kinds of afflictions only because they are Jews? What will they say?

[9] On [the fast day of] Tisha B’Av [the 9th of Av, on Tuesday, July 20th, eight days earlier] I wrote a letter to Hinda Weitz.^[13] The content of the letter was about the special inner courage that I recognized in her for some time and which is prominent now especially since all of her household members left the forest [where they lived] and only she remained with her parents. I received a reply to my letter. Then again on Thursday I wrote to her, but after the Sabbath [Saturday night] I rewrote the letter and on Sunday planned to send it [to her] there. But because I had to go to the trenches – I gave the letter to Moshe [my brother] and asked him to send it^[14] there. And wasn’t the letter entirely prepared and there was someone to deliver it, but what did my Moshe do? Insofar as he took a great interest in what I wrote to Hinda and in desiring to know what was written there, he didn’t send it with the messenger but opened it afterwards and read it… I anticipated already at the start that this is what he would do from all the curiosity and interest… and therefore when I got up in the morning, I approached his coat to see whether the letter was there or not, and behold I found the letter open. I was very angry about this and I made a remark to him about this, but he justified himself: first of all, he didn’t have free time from all the pressures in the store to send pass the letter to the messenger, but this was just a lousy excuse, because in fact if he wanted to send the letter he could have done so right away, since it was all ready to go. And wouldn’t I have done it that way [were I working in the store]?

Meanwhile, the letter was not sent, because there wasn’t anyone [going to the forest] with whom to send it [10] all week. But yesterday I learned from one person that someone needs to come [to the store] from the forest [where the Weitz family lived] and I asked Moshe to try to send the letter, because these days I am by the trenches all day. And Moshe told me that the letter was already sent. Whether he is speaking the truth or not – I don’t know, meanwhile I need to check his pockets…

~~~~~~~~~~

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Notes

[8e] [Translator’s comment:] The word katbān can mean typist. While typewriters existed and were in use in Russia, they were concentrated in administrative offices of the government and were not broadly deployed to the front. It seems likely that Yitzhak used the word to mean "a writer" meaning a note taker. As becomes evident from this entry, he is writing down the names of Jews who are digging trenches for the military council as part of the quota system the council imposed. [HS] ↩

[9] The defense trenches that the military council oversaw in the town with the approach of the Eastern front. The Jewish community had [to supply] a requisite quota of workers. During the trench work, the diggers congregated by their national-religious group as evident from the description in the diary. ↩

[10] The double quotation marks at the beginning of each line are the archaic symbol that the quote continues from the previous line. In the source, the lines are written full and not chopped off, fitting the limitation of the page’s width. ↩

[10a] [Translator’s comment:] Yitzhak is here quoting the title of the poem by Mordechai Tzvi Mana (1859-1886) which he mentions singing in his previous entry while sitting in the trench during a noon day break. [HS] ↩

[10b] [Translator’s comment:] The date given here (18th of Av) seems out of sequence. Yitzhak began the current entry on the 17th of Av (July 28, 1915). The reflection about the incident that he transcribed here in his diary occurred sometime the prior week. Perhaps Yitzhak was intending to put the current date underneath this record to indicate when he wrote it, and if so perhaps he wrote it the day after he began the entry. [HS] ↩

[11] Chancellery, the military council. ↩

[11a] [Translator’s comment:] Yitzhak was apparently getting paid to act as a scribe and record the names of the Jews who participated in the digging of trenches and he brought these lists to the military council that mediated between the military and the civil authority. The purpose of the lists, it appears, was to ensure that the Jews were meeting their quota and was likely related to what he mentioned in the previous entry about going to the military council with the local lawyer. [HS] ↩

[11b] On the history of this Russian slur, see John D. Klier, “Zhid: Biography of a Russian Epithet,” The Slavonic and East European Review. Vol. 60, No. 1 (Jan. 1982), pp. 1-15 (15 pages). ↩

[11c] [Translator’s comment:] It is not clear to me from the language exactly what gesture or movement the soldier made with his robe or cloak that was supposed to frighten or excite Yitzhak. [HS] ↩

[12] The term מוֹרָשֵׁי–לְבָבִי here means innermost thoughts quoting Job 17:11: “My days are done, my tendons severed / The strings of my heart. [Translator’s comment:] “There was a belief in the past that “heartstrings” were literal nerves connected to the heart that controlled emotions. [HS] ↩

[13] The daughter of Abraham Weitz, brother of Yosef Weitz, one of the prominent pioneers of the second aliyah. See Diary 1, note 2. [Translator’s comment]: In June and July 1914, before WW1 began, Yitzhak’s diary entries are very hopeful he will be able to journey to the Land of Israel that summer with Abraham Weitz and/or his daughter Hinda. It has been a year since Yithak mentioned Hinda. I suspect but can’t prove that perhaps Hinda Weitz was the young woman that Yitzhak has a crush on whom he mentions but doesn’t name in his diary entry for August 18th. His words in his letter and his brother’s effort to read the letter seem to support this interpretation. [HS] ↩

[14] Lamdan uses the Hebrew word for letter מכתב as if it is feminine [when it is fact masculine], apparently like the parallel term in Yiddish and Russian which are also translated into Hebrew as איגרת meaning letter or missive. ↩

***

August 1915

[August 10, 1915] Tuesday night,^[14a] 1st of [the month of] Elul in the terrible period, 5675, Mlynov

Recently, I didn't write anything in the diary because I am at the trenches all day and there is no free time to write in the diary. During the past week, I earned another five rubles apart from the six rubles that I received for six [work] days of the week. And here's the thing: the military typist for the trench work told me to write down in the list of workers a few other unfamiliar names of those who didn't work. I did this and for this I received 5 rubles. This week my material situation will apparently weaken; a new officer and new typists arrived, [and] in place of 1 ruble per day they set [the rate at] 75 kops [i.e., kopeks (100 kopeks = ruble)].^[15] This is how I occupied myself for my material situation all the days, leaving me no free time to devote to my spiritual work. A difficult time!...

But despite this I wrote a new poem last week called “No Escape or Flight from Dreams.”^[16] which was on my mind already [11] to compose. In this poem, I noted one line from my personal psychology. Because in a most difficult situation, in an hour that I am entirely captive in the grip of my despair – even in these hours the dreams penetrate and present their charming scenes to me:

“There is no escape or flight from dreams and hopes
spontaneously they rise up in the heart and appear (bāʾîm)
even if I disparage them, I know that they will lift me –
they will present to me a future so nice (nāʾîm).”

And this is not so just with respect to my personal situation, but also to that of the general situation, to the situation of all the people:

The people is depressed, wretched, tortured, pursued incessantly
and the spirits of destructions surround it, wailing and noisy (hômôt),
destructions, destructions in every corner of its world –
and in spite of this there is no fleeing and no refuge from dreams (ḥălômôt)...

Despite my expectation, I haven't received an answer yet from Hinda Weitz to my second letter. And there is no doubt I won’t receive it soon. Too bad, I so want to exchange letters with her, because to our regret there are few girls among our people who know how to write Hebrew and who understand the spirit of the Hebrew heart [12] and among my acquaintances (and how many acquaintances do I have in general? [not many!]) she is the only one with whom I can exchange Hebrew letters, meaning two [letters], and thus I am sorry that our exchange of letters is not continuing. Is the exchange of letters not desirable for her?

On Sunday this week, I composed a letter to her in which I asked her the reason for her silence. And no doubt I could have sent the letter because on Sunday [the workers] didn’t go to the trenches, and instead all day, to my irritation, I sat with Yitzhak the Staroste^[17] and together we paid their wages for trench digging; and thus I spent the entire day there and the letter didn’t get sent. And in the middle of the week it was possible to ask someone to send it there [to Hinda in the forest] but I was occupied all day at the trenches, and it was also not possible to give the letter to [my brother] Moshe to give to a messenger because no doubt he would open it and read it and I didn't want this at all...

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Notes

[14a] [Translator’s comment:] “Nighttime of day 4.” See note 50a in Diary Notebook 1 discussing how nighttime is part of a new day in the Jewish calendar system. [HS] ↩

[15] Kop, shortened form of Kopek, a coin worth 1/100th of a ruble. [Translator’s comment:] Yitzhak’s wage was reduced 25% because of the new officer and typists in town. [HS] ↩

[16] Like most poems of Lamdan’s youth, this one was lost. ↩

[17] The staroste, the title staroste, was given to someone appointed to the administration of the Jewish community (kehilla) on behalf of the governments in the states of Eastern Europe like Romania, Moldova and others. This person served as an agent of the state treasury instead of the assembly of the community (kehilla). [Translator’s comment]: This particular administrator was recalled by a granddaughter in “Stoliner Hasidism in Mlynov,” the Mlynov-Muravica Memorial Book, 78-81. [HS] ↩

***

[August 11, 1915] Thursday night, 2nd of [the month of] Elul, in the terrible period, Mlynov

Today, I came back from the trenches in the afternoon in the hour of 12-1 and I didn’t return there again, because I didn’t have anything to do there after the typist already got there. It was good that I was home at noon because today a messenger came from the Weitz home to Mlynov, and I sent the letter which I mentioned in the previous entry with him to Hinda.

Let me see the results of this letter …

[13] The exile (hagolah)!.. It grows more and more repulsive to me every day. With every moment, I see how righteous is the aspiration of the Zionists and how fraudulent and misleading the system of “those favoring exile” (galut).^[17a] Alas, the exile (hagalut), the exile (hagalut), how awful and hard is it! There is no breathing room, no place to rest and no end to the terrible hardships and what will be its end? Central to our aspiration – the Land of Israel meanwhile we don’t know its situation. There are no newspapers in Hebrew or in jargon [i.e., Yiddish],^[17b] and there is no news from the Land of Israel. Yikes, who knows what is happening there now in the land of our ancestors? Nevertheless, there will be heavy sorrow there in some way – I'm willing to suffer everything, but in free surroundings, rather than being here in terrible hell (Gehinnom).

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Notes

[17a] [Translator’s comment:] Yitzhak uses the same language a year earlier on August 18, 1914, to describe those favoring acculturation, describing those who believe that Jews can and must seek civic equality as those “requiring” or “mandating” exile. [HS] ↩

[17b] [Translator’s comment:] Advocates of the Jewish enlightenment (Haskalah) sometimes referred disparagingly to Yiddish as “jargon,” because they viewed it as an inferior or corrupt form of German. Zionists who favored Hebrew also spoke disparagingly of Yiddish and viewed it as a symptom of diaspora and exile. Yitzhak clearly favors Hebrew though he also occasionally uses a Yiddish saying in his diary entries to express the thinking of the average person or because it succinctly captures what he wants to say. ↩

***

[August 17, 1915] Tuesday evening, 8th of [the month of] Elul, in the terrible period, Mlynov

Already this week I didn't think about going to the trenches because this Monday our Jews didn't go to dig, but today they started to go again. I too was there in the morning, and I returned home at one o'clock (lit. the first hour). This is the second or third day that the rain hasn’t stopped falling, and it isn't summer rain, and its smell - an autumnal smell, the cold is sneaks in slowly, slowly and makes the body shiver. Cold winds blow announcing the end of summer; our friend, summer, expired already. It is already the days of [the month of] Elul. [In Yiddish:] “it is going away already”^[18] – as the masses say... the days of fall arrived, those same days of fall quenching your calm and sweet sorrow, days with patches of color, and gold flowing in gardens, [14] and everywhere things are growing... those same fall days filled with hidden longings for a hidden, serene world, but after these days, the mud of fall lies impatiently in wait. The wind announces its coming to all:

“Check your shoes? Patch your cloaks?
Go out and prepare the potatoes!...”
(Bialik)^[19]

Yes, it is necessary to check the shoes and patch the cloak but not for serene, normal living in the regular dwelling place but rather… for wandering! Who knows whether – in the difficult days of fall, with rainfall that doesn’t stop, when the mud reaches the neck, at the time of the damp cold – we won’t need to leave here from the fear of War that has been hanging over our heads these several months. Yikes! Who knows if our bitter luck will not result in our being expelled from here, precisely during the difficult days of fall, and [result] in having to wander to other distant places… Yikes! The thought of this is terrible when you allow it into your heart.

Yes, yes, it is necessary to check the shoes and patch the cloak, but to prepare potatoes is not possible now, because who knows if we will be fortunate to eat them…

The War situation at the front which is close to us is unchanged and almost complete silence rules there. But will it indeed remain this way also [15] in the future, and will no war incidents develop here? Thus everyone is alert and anxious about the incidents that could come. These words are heard from the lips of everyone: only if we are sentenced, God forbid, to suffer from this situation – let this moment be soon and let us not live constantly in expectation and anxiety, and that which we must bear in the future, let us suffer sooner, rather than later and especially not during the difficult days of fall and winter.

The troubles of the time, the sorrows of the individual and the general are distinct, and the concerns of youth storm separately – – – – [Yitzhak is signaling his shift now to personal concerns which follow:]

I already mentioned, in my previous diary entry, that I sent a letter to Hinda Weitz in which I asked her the reason for her silence and in which I expressed my suspicion: perhaps she didn’t want to exchange letters at all – But I haven’t received yet an answer to my letter yet. Whether or not this silence confirms my suspicion – the coming days will tell …

I thought this diary entry was finished. But after half an hour or so, Moshe came from the store and after sitting a bit, he produced a letter that came for me from Hinda Weitz. The content of the letter was meager and included only justifications for her silence “due to the present time and isolation, and the present idleness”… but even this was positive. Provided that the exchange of letters didn’t cease, and my suspicion [16] of H. [Hinda] Weitz – was wrong. The result was to my liking. [She did want to continue writing].

I must mention additionally that the letter was open. Apparently by Moshe...

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Notes

[18] A Yiddish expression meaning: it is already erased, finished. ↩

[19] “Summer Expires.” “The heart is orphaned. In a little bit and a day of heavy rain / On the window silence knocks / “Check your shoes? Patch your cloak? / Go out and prepare the potatoes.” Hayyim Nachman Bialik, Poems, edition of Avner Holtzman. Or Yehuda: Dvir, 5765 [2004-2005], p. 330). The poem was written in 5665 [1904-05] and published the first time in the edition of Bialik poems, Kharkov, 5668 [1907-08]. ↩

***

[August 21, 1915] Saturday night[?],^[19a] 13th [should be the 12th] [of month of] Elul in the terrible period, Mlynov

I was out of the house all day, because I was busy with receiving and paying money for the trench digging work. And I am so sorry about this! During the time I was busy with worthless activities that are not useful to me at all and which cause me only regret - Hinda Weitz and her mother^[20] were here in our home, and I so very much wanted to see her. When I heard from Moshe, upon my arriving home in the evening, that she was here, I was so sad and angry with myself for getting so immersed and going to the compensation activity [for the ditch digging], and I stayed there the whole day. I was so very angry with myself...

Thursday last week I answered Hinda's last letter, whether or not she will think to answer it now that she has visited here – I don't know. Possibly if I have free time tomorrow – I will write her a second time.

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Notes

[19a] [Translator’s comment:] This is one of the examples where Yitzhak says he is writing at “nighttime of day 1” and the traditional Jewish understanding of his language does not appear to work. Yitzhak here says he is writing “nighttime on day 1” which traditionally would be Saturday night, after the Sabbath. He gives the date as the 13th of Elul in the year 5675. In the Jewish calendar that year, the 13th of Elul begins Sunday night, April 12, 1915, and continues until sundown, April 13th. So, if Yitzhak meant Saturday night, the correct date was the 12th of Elul, not the 13th as he wrote, which is why the edited volume made the date correction.

However, in this case that traditional interpretation is problematic because Yitzhak begins this diary entry by writing, “I was out of the house all day, because I was busy with receiving and paying money for the trench digging work.” If Yitzhak was writing this entry on a Saturday night, then he would have been dealing with money on Saturday day, the Sabbath day. This seems unlikely for a young man still living in a traditional religious household.

In this case, therefore, it seems more probable Yitzhak meant Sunday night, not Saturday night, when he wrote “Nightime Day 1” using a concept from the civil calendar, as did other Zionists of his day. If he was writing Sunday night, his dating of the entry as the 13th of Elul was correct and the date was April 22, 1915. See earlier discussion of this issue in Notebook 1, note 50a. [HS] ↩

[20] The mother of Hinda, wife of Abraham Weitz, Rizah (Rachel) Kalivner (see Diary 1, note 2). [Translator’s comment:] they were probably visiting the Lamdan store for supplies. [HS] ↩

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

***

[August 26, 1915] Thursday, 16th of Elul, in the terrible period, 5675, Mlynov

Today, I am sending another letter to Hinda Weitz, though she still hasn't answered my previous letter.

[17] I am still busy at the digging. It has been three days that the Jews of Mlynov were digging far from town by the village of Pudgayetz [today Pidhaitsi, Ukraine]^[21] which already [belongs under the jurisdiction] of another [military] unit. Meanwhile I went there all these days. The work for me there was not distracting [lit. didn't blind the eyes]... and thus the days passed with irrelevant and ill-suited work.

The situation has become more agitated. Rumor after rumor spreads about the approach of war operations towards our location, with their [the Austro-Hungarian army’s] approach to Lutsk.^[22] They talk about the terrible images of refugees and evacuees,^[22a] and when you realize that it is possible that we also could find ourselves in a situation like this - the hair of the head stands on end. Just terrible is the situation and what will be the end?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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Notes

[21] The village of Pudgayetz, pronounced in Ukrainian as Pidhaitsi, in the district of Rovno in Western Ukraine, about 7 km southeast of the town of Mlynov. Not to be confused with the town Pidhaitsi in the district of Tarnopol which is about 200 km south of Mlynov where Jews lived as early as the 15th century. ↩

[22] The town of Lutsk, the district seat in the Volyn Oblast in Western Ukraine about 30 km northwest of Mlynov. ↩

[22a] [Translator’s comment:] In the end of August 1915, the Astro-Hungarian forces advanced during what is known as “The Great Retreat” of the Russian army, which began in July 1915 and continued into September 1915. The Austro-Hungarian forces captured the city of Kovel on August 25, and the city of Lutsk on August 31st. Yitzhak’s next diary entry describes his own experiences during the week that the Austro-Hungarian captured Lutsk.
The two Hebrew terms translated here as “refugee” and “evacuee” could have different shades of meaning. The term "נמלטים” means people who flee. In English, “refugee” is the closest term though technically “refugee” tends to be used for someone who flees their country because of violence or War, not someone who flees their town. “Displaced persons” also refers to a person who leaves their home town because of violence and War, but doesn’t capture the sense of the Hebrew for actively “fleeing.” The second term והנשלחים means those who were “sent” or “dispatched” and could carry the meaning of “expelled” or “evacuated.” Since this is the period of WWI known as the “Great Retreat” in 1915, it seems likely that as the Russian troops fell back from the Eastern Front, people were fleeing and being evacuated from the towns along the way. This general atmosphere seems consistent with the “caravans” or “trains” of people that Yitzhak describes seeing in his next entry. [HS] ↩

***

September 1915

[September 3, 1915] Friday (Sabbath Eve / “Erev Shabbat”), 24th of Elul, in the terrible period, 5675, Dubno^[23]

Yikes, so much has happened to me and all of us during the days that I didn't write anything in the diary! We are satiated on so much sadness and grief already! Too bad that due to many disturbances, I was not able to capture all of it when it was taking place. Now, for sure, I will not be able to record everything that happened, since [I’ll be] forgetting details of the impressions [i.e., experiences]. And furthermore this [is another reason I can’t recall it all]: the present banishes the past and the [current] impressions are impactful just like those of the past [and obliterate them]. But, nevertheless, I will try to record [the details] that I remember [lit. "as far as the hand of my memory extends"]: [18] The tumult and commotion began during Thursday last week [August 25].^[23a] The military movement continued and expanded. Long convoys^[24] began traveling from the direction of Lutsk where a battle between the Russians and Austrians broke out. The convoys didn’t stop leaving the town of L. [Lutsk] after all the military equipment was brought out. Already on the Sabbath day [Aug. 28th], refugees^[24a] appeared. The emotional state of the Jews of the town [Mlynov] was already depressed. On Sunday morning [Aug. 29th], I again traveled to Pudgayetz [Pidhaitsi, Ukraine]^[24b] to collect money for the [trench] digging work. We didn’t receive any money. When we returned to town, there were already many soldiers there. And when I entered [our] home, I saw the frightened and terrified faces of my household members [i.e., family members], because rumors were spreading that the Cossacks^[24c] were coming to town and would do what they wanted, because they were already in Mervits and they plundered and robbed there, and other various rumors like these spread which evoked terrible fear in the people of the town. From that day forward, the [military] movement increased significantly in town. The convoys and soldiers didn’t cease and from Galicia as well, the soldiers, convoys, and camps, camps of refugees began to pass. All of this consolidated [19] into a frightening and horrible tumult which made a terrible impression on the heart. Also, heavy and frequent gunfire began to be heard. But the worst moments were Sunday [or Saturday?^[24d] ] night. When we lay down to sleep on our beds, we were wearing clothing in case we needed to get up in the middle of sleep. My aunt^[25] heard the soldiers from the convoy who were standing in our yard call to each other that a telegram was received indicating that the convoy needed to hurry up and get on its way and they began to prepare for travel. The tumult increased. We all got up out of our beds. When my aunt and father went outside, they entered the house in panic: Mervits was already on fire. This matter scared us so much. We all hurried outside and could see there in the direction of Mervits a terrible fire had burst into flames. But after this, we determined that they were piles of grain that were burning which the soldiers set on fire.^[25b] After this, refugees came to us from Demydivka.^[26] Suddenly several soldiers entered. One of them began to speak harshly and scared us that he would set the house on fire. The situation became difficult. Another thing I forgot to write, that on Sunday [Aug. 29th], David Weitz^[26a] came with his wife and everyone from the forest of Pean and Notzitz^[27] (today Nadchytsi, Ukraine) as refugees, because they fled from Notzitz (Nadchytsi) from fear of the Cossacks.

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Notes

[23] Dubna or Dubno (Dubno in Ukrainian) is a city in the district of Rovno (south of the city of Rovno) in the geographical region of Volyn in northwest Ukraine located on the banks of the Ikva River. It is about 20 km southeast of Mlynov. ↩

[23a] [Translator’s comment:] As noted in the previous footnote, the town of Kovel was taken by the Austro-Hungarians on August 25th and by August 31st, the city of Lutsk was capture. Yitzhak is describing his experience in Mlynov during that week. [HS] ↩

[24] The term in the Hebrew text, “Oboz,” is Russian, here with the meaning of a military convoy or train. ↩

[24a] [Translator’s comment:] See note 22a and the discussion of the translation “refugee” or “displaced persons.” [HS] ↩

[24b] [Translator’s comment:] See note 21 on location of Pidhaitsi. [HS] ↩

[24c] [Translator’s comment:] The Cossacks served as highly respected mounted fighters in the Russian Imperial army and were known for their calvary skills and traditional warrior ethos. They were semi-nomadic and free-spirited and provided military service for land and privileges. As is evident here, the Jewish community was frightened of them even though they were serving in the Russian army. In stories from the Eastern Front, the Cossacks looted, raped and attacked local Jewish residents. See earlier discussion in diary entry from Aug. 23, 1914, and note 65a there. [HS] ↩

[24d] [Translator’s comment:] It is not certain if Yitzhak means Sunday or Saturday night, though the sequence suggests he is referring to Sunday night. The text reads "the night of the first day" [of the week.] Yitzhak uses that language sometimes to mean Saturday night (as in traditional Jewish language) and sometimes Sunday night in civil concepts. Compare, for example, Dec. 12th, 19th, and 26th in 1915, he calls Sunday night (night of day 2 "lel yom bet") but on Aug. 21st 1915 and footnote 19a there, and Jan 23, 1916 he calls Sunday night “night of day 1” ("lel yom aleph"). For Saturday night, Yitzhak often calls it "after the Sabbath" (motzei Shabbat) as in Nov. 20, 1915h Dec. 18th, 25th, Jan 22, Feb. 19, 1916, though occasionally he calls it “night of day 1” (lel yom aleph) as in March 11, 1916. [HS] ↩

[25] Etta Rosenberg, the aunt, sister of his mother, who lived on a regular basis in their home. ↩

[25b][Translator’s comment:] The Russian soldiers were destroying crops to create supply issues for the advancing Austro-Hungarian forces. [HS] ↩

[26] Demydivka, a town in the district of Rovno in western Ukraine, about 25 km southwest of Mlynov. ↩

[26a][Translator’s comment:] David Weitz was the son of Abraham Weitz and brother of Hinda Weitz. In Yitzhak’s first diary (notebook 1) from the summer of 1914 before the War broke out, Yitzhak mentions David Weitz several times. At that point David still lived in Bokiima in the forest with his family and solicited Yitzhak’s help with newspaper subscriptions. He apparently had left Bokiima at some point in the past year and moved to Nadchytsi. [HS] ↩

[27] Notzitz refers to the village Nadchytsi in the district (oblast) of Rovno located about 20 km northwest of Mlynov. Pean and Notzitz refers to a forested area near Mlynov and Mervits. ↩

***

[20]

[September 5, 1915] Sunday, 26th of Elul, 5675, in the terrible period, Dubno

The entry that I began to write on Friday, I didn't completely finish and now I am continuing it, in order of the chain of events:

On Wednesday morning (or perhaps on Tuesday) the situation in the town worsened significantly. The tumult grew many times over, the refugee camps increased immeasurably, and their appearance was awful and made a difficult and painful impression. Many Cossacks entered town, spreading fear among all the Jewish inhabitants. Chaim Shteren^[28] and all of them decided to travel to Dubno, and both [my brother] Moshe and I decided to accompany them.^[28a] After much preparation and wailing farewells with crying, we all left by foot following the laden-down wagons on the road to Dubno. In our convoy, there were three wagons: C. [Chaim] Shteren and [Mr.] Diyunetz,^[29] the wagon of Pinchosovitz,^[30] and of Leibush^[31] the agent; our departure from town was awful. All around billows of smoke rose up from burning piles and villages on fire, and alongside schnapps distilleries large piles also burned. Scattered along the way were piles of apples, pears, different implements, machines, etc., etc., that the refugees left to lighten the load on their horses. When we got close to the village of Podgayetz, we were not able to enter because of all the refugees, but after much effort, we reached the village. We rested a bit there and then traveled onward. The road was difficult because of the marsh. We reached Dubno at 11 am [lit. the 11th hour^[31a]]. Together with the whole group here, we set up our living quarters in the home of Mr. Erdeman.^[32] [21] Furthermore, along our way to Dubno, we decided to remain here [in Dubno] and await fate. But many changes and alterations occurred in just the few days we stayed here in this city. Our decision mentioned above [to remain in Dubno] weakened several times. The commotion grew especially yesterday in the early afternoon following the pasting up of the announcements indicating that young people from 17 to 45 years of age are required to leave the city. But after that it became known that the order applied only to Christians and not to Jews. Gunfire is heard and doesn’t quit. And here now at the moment that I am writing my present entry, a new hullabaloo arose because despite the “exemption for the Jews” related to the exit of residents from the city, they are saying that they will immediately pass through [the city] and force the Jews to leave and that at 6 pm [lit. the 6th hour] the bridges will go up in flames, etc. Fear and worry is all around.

Facing the situation we find ourselves in now is hair-raising. Our family is torn into three parts: father, mother and aunt – God [hashem] knows where they are and where they fled with the major chaos that occurred in Mlynov. (Apparently they are in Varkovychi^[33] ). Malcah, Hansa and Riba – are in Baranovka [now Baranivka, Ukraine]^[34] and Moshe and I are here – and we don’t know our future here in the city before the fighting that is likely to break out here. And we all wander now without a home, our home is lost. We no longer have an ancestral home. Yikes! How horrible is that idea! In remembering our serene and well-to-do lives, I am not able to fathom that from now on our lives need to be reordered... and who knows [22] the nature of this reordering... we are light and empty without anything, our possessions were lost and what to do now? How awful when I remember the spiritual treasure of our books that we left in the basement. Yikes! How precious the library [lit. “bibliotheca”] was to us! What is being done [to it] there? I imagine how the Cossacks burst into the basement and how, when they saw the closed cases, they broke them in anger and cruelly tore up the precious Hebrew books! Alas, how terrible! Yikes! What has happened to us? It is good I rescued my writings and notebooks etc. – if not for this, I don’t know what I would have done! I imagine I would have gone crazy, because are not the products of my spirit part of my life, and without them, it is as if a large part of my life was lost. But who knows if this precious possession of mine [i.e., the notebooks and poems] is safe yet, [for] if the tumult now grows so much, who knows what will happen in the coming moments and hours.

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Notes

[28] Chaim Shteren, one of the main Jewish families in Mlynov. Upon leaving Mlynov, he moved his family and home to the village of Notzitz (Nadchytsi). In the continuation of the diary his wife is also mentioned (Heb. page 37 [Sept. 29, 1915] and Eleazar Shteren his son (Heb. page 29 [Sept. 19, 1915]). ↩

[28a] [Translator’s comment:] Yitzhak doesn’t indicate why he and his brother decided to leave Mlynov separately from their parents and sisters. See his entry on Dec. 7, 1915, for his later emotional description of their leave-taking. If it was just the tumult that prompted Yitzhak and Moshe to leave, it seems more likely the whole family would have left together. One possibility is they feared that as young men, Moshe and perhaps even Yitzhak, would be forcibly conscripted by the Russians. In August 1915, the draft law in Russia was revised and expanded, and reduced from 21 years to 19 years. Perhaps there was fear that Moshe could be conscripted (Yitzhak was still only 16). Alternatively they may have worried that as young men they would be taken prisoners (unlike the parents and sisters) by the Austro-Hungarian army if it were to capture Mlynov. On the revision of the Russian military draft law in Aug. 1915, see Joshua A. Sanborn, Drafting the Russian Nation, p. 31. [HS] ↩

[29]Mr. Diyunetz, head of household of one of the Jewish families in Mlynov. ↩

[30] Moshe Pinchosovitz [a lawyer] from Mlynov mentioned [in this notebook 2] on page 7 [July 25, 1915]. ↩

[31] Leibush the agent, from one of the main Jewish families in Mlynov. [Translator’s comment]: possibly Leibush Gelberg. See his granddaughter’s memory of their evacuation from Mlynov during WWI. Helen Lederer (born Chultzie Gelberg) described being rounded up with her mother and siblings and told to leave. She sees her grandfather Leibush when they arrive in Varkovitch [Varkovychi]. Helen Lederer, “In Pain from the First World War,” pp. 37-38 in the Mlynov-Muravica Memorial Book. [HS] ↩

[31a][Translator’s comment]: See my discussion of Yitzhak’s terminology for time which sounds like traditional Jewish concepts (proportional hours) but is actually aligned with then civil fixed hour concepts (See Aug. 5, 1914, note 48a in Diary Notebook 1). [HS] ↩

[32] No details are known about him. ↩

[33] Varkovychi, a town in the district of Rivne in western Ukraine, about 30 km east [and a bit south] of Mlynov. ↩

[34] According to the information relayed by Yitzhak Lamdan his sisters Riba (see above Notebook 1, note 49 [Aug. 5, 1914]), Hansa and Malcah were found at the time in the town of Baranivka. The eldest sister, Genya (Henya, Heni) is not mentioned here, perhaps in line with what is said in the diary (25 Cheshvan, 5677 [1916] that she was also staying with the other sisters in Baranivka. [Translator’s comment:] In the entry from Aug. 5, 1914 cited above, Yitzhak does not say that all his sisters were living in Baranivka. That entry says only that Riba and her husband and child left Mlynov. In On August 8, 1914 Yitzhak records in his diary that he received a telegram from his sister Genya inviting them to come to stay with her since it was safer. Her location is not indicated explicitly in that telegram. [HS] ↩

***

[September 8, 1915] [Wednesday] Eve of [of the holiday of] Rosh Hashana [the Jewish New Year] , in the terrible period, Dubno

Well then, we are still standing at the beginning of [the year] 5676! Should I try to summarize the nature of the past year, 5675? No! I have neither that patience nor the talent for creative work like this. But [anyway] why should I enumerate all the details of the present passing year? It is possible to express the character of this year in several short words: It has been a year cursed by sword, hunger and grief. [23] A year in which tens of thousands of innocent souls were annihilated, a year in which humanity suffered an innumerable amount. Yes, humanity. But humanity in general didn’t suffer as much as our poor people suffered in particular. This year was terrible for our people. This year almost all the communities of Jews in the Diaspora were destroyed: in Galicia, Poland, Lithuania, Kurlandia [now Courland/Kurland, Latvia]^[35] and now a wide-scale heavy destruction of Jewish Diaspora is occurring even in the blessed [area of] Volyn^[36] [the district that includes Dubno and Mlynov]. And a severe destruction is occurring in our precious settlements (Yishuv) in the Land of Israel. When all the Hebrew newspapers were still being published, we knew something of the situation in our precious land. But from the moment that the Hebrew and Jewish [Yiddish] newspapers stopped appearing – nothing is known about the situation there, and who knows what is happening there?... Thus, a severe destruction rules now in almost every corner of the Jewish world. Yes, all humanity indeed suffered in the present war, but the Jewish people suffered more than any, because it suffered not only from the direct events of the War but also from their side effects: they were horrified by by murders, by stealing of the Russian army, and so on and so on. Yikes! Our shattering is extensive and terrible; the Jewish people is shattered!

[24] And it is the holiday of Rosh Hashanah (the Jewish New Year), and we now are in a foreign place^[36a] with no ancestral home that is dear to the heart and soul... My brother and I are staying now in Dubno and today is the eve of Rosh Hashanah. The holiday now feels up in the air as it does in our hometown? Yes, in my good town, all the vegetation and leaves, withered and yellow, express that it is [the month] of Elul everywhere and before the Days of Awe [from Rosh Hashanah to Yom Kippur], as if the blast of the shofar hangs silently in the air.^[36b] Yikes! Where oh where are you my serene hometown? Where are you all? Where have you all wandered, my dear and beloved parents?! We have indeed been split into three parts, and the good God knows when we will be joined together again as at first. Yikes! My heart is torn to shreds thinking of the situation our family finds itself in now, my heart is torn to shreds! And my heart is full of sadness and grief and there is no rest for my soul.

The situation here lacks clarity. These last few days we already found ourselves facing very terrible moments. While still Sunday^[36c] night a tumult erupted. Soldiers and convoys withdrew nonstop from the city. Thus, we already understood that something was going to happen soon, and it was already known that the Austrian military was close to the city. Yesterday at night [the Russian military] burned all the bridges and the entire Russian army left the city. Difficult moments confronted us, with nervous expectation we waited to sense what was coming and we all dressed in our [traveling] cloaks, [25] packed necessary objects, ready for the road, but the fear passed in peace. Soon thereafter they came and told us that ten Austrian military spies were already moving about in the city. Upon hearing this, we thought that for sure the whole Austrian army would enter the city this night. But so far it hasn’t entered further. Instead a few of them are moving about the streets of the city. No one is able to solve this mystery: the Russian army left the city, but the Austrian army has not entered. But they say that many Russian soldiers are found in Surmitz [now Vulytsya Surmychi, Ukraine].^[37] In any case, the end has not arrived yet and who knows what else will befall us in this city.

~~~~~~~~~~

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Notes

[35] Kurlandia, Kurland (English Courland), a district in northern Latvia, which was in the Russian Empire until the War. During the fighting in the fall 1915 (the period in which these lines were written in the diary) it was conquered by Germany, and once Latvia was founded as an independent state in 1918, was absorbed into it. ↩

[36] Jews of Volyn, the Jewish population in the area of historic Volyn in Western Ukraine, which included several districts: Volyn, Rovno [Rivne], where Mlynov is located, part of Zhytomyr, part of Ternopil, and part of Khmelnytskyi. ↩

[36a] [Translator’s comment:] Yitzhak’s wording here alludes to his exile from his ancestral home (Mlynov) and to his life in the Diaspora in general. Yitzhak begins using the term “nēkār” with his arrival in Dubna. The literary term can be used to describe a foreign country, a foreign place, or the diaspora, and Yitzhak uses it here because he is displaced from his home. It is not entirely clear if he thinks of Dubna as just a foreign place or in some sense a “foreign country.” Dubna is still under Russian control at this point so technically he is still in his own country. I’ve therefore translated the term here as “a foreign place.” Later, however, when Lutsk is captured by the Austro-Hungarian army and Yitzhak is behind enemy lines, he also uses the term and writes a poem called “In a Nēkār.” In this case, it is possible to translate the title as “In a Foreign Country,” since he was living under Austro-Hungarian military control. It is not entirely clear, however, how sharp this distinction was in Yitzhak’s own mind. [HS] ↩

[36b] [Translator’s comment:] It appears Yitzhak is metaphorically comparing the sight of the yellow withered leaves to the blast of the Shofar that announces the Days of Awe. The leaves hanging there are like a blast of the shofar that hangs in the air. [HS] ↩

[36c] [Translator’s comment:] It is ambiguous here if Yitzhak is referring to Sunday or Monday night. He is inconsistent in his diary whether the “night of day two” refers to Sunday night (following traditional Jewish calendar concepts or refers to Monday night, using civil concepts. See earlier comments in Aug. 8, 1914, not 50a and Aug. 16, 1914, note 57a. [HS] ↩

[37] [Translator’s comment:] It appears Yitzhak is metaphorically comparing the sight of the yellow withered leaves to the blast of the Shofar that announces the Days of Awe. The leaves hanging there are like a blast of the shofar that hangs in the air. [HS] ↩

***

[September 13, 1915] Monday, 5th of [the month of ] Tishrei 5676, in the terrible period, Dubna

The holiday [of Rosh Hashanah] is over and we persist now during the Ten Days of Repentence.^[37a] Yesterday, the day passed by with great fear. All day long the canon balls did not stop roaring and whistling over the face of the city. There were also several tragedies. The Austrians already conquered the city, apparently a complete conquest. But we are still not certain what the situation is. People are very worried that the Russians won't enter the city a second time and then – all of us shall be lost. Commandant Dofa hasn't yet given documents to leave the city to residents of those [other] cities [26] who fled here. Today, the day passed almost in silence. But now again the terrible shooting began which is shaking the ground and the fear once again attacks everyone.

I am almost reconciled to the situation, to whatever happens to me, but when I recall the situation of my parents and our home – awful grief grips my heart, especially when I think of father. When I think of his terrible mood, even at a time when nothing was going on and they only worried about bad events, then what [must be his mood] now at a time that this terrible storm is taking place – ha! Almost only about this [my father’s emotional state] does my soul mourn and suffer endlessly. The hour is late, twilight, and it is possible I could have written much more about my emotional state, but if [lit. “when"] I live, I will write about this another time.

____________________

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Notes

[37a] [Translator's comment:] The Ten Days of Repentance (Aseret Yemei Teshuvah), also known as the Days of Awe, are the days between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. These days are traditionally a period of prayer, reflection, repentance and charity. Jews metaphorically believe (and perhaps some really believe) that during this time God determines who will live and die in the coming year. That association is not lost on Yitzhak who knows his own life is at risk. [HS] ↩

***

[September 15, 1915] Wednesday, 7th of [the month of] Tishrei, 5676, in the terrible period Mlynov^[38a] Dubno

I am reminded now of several stanzas of this poem I wrote earlier, a year or more ago:

"Thus the days go by
and the passing of the nights (halêlôt) [27]
in grief-filled musings,
and thoughts that are mournful (ʾăbêlôt)
with torture of the body
and with torture of the soul (nəšāmâ),
with no splendour of hope!
without a glimmer of comfort (neḥāmâ).”^[39]

Yes, I am reminded of these words of the poem because they are entirely fitting for these terrible days. Yikes, difficult, difficult, and terrible are the present days in which we are stuck now. Every day I wander around here and there getting my fill of terrible and depressing boredom. There is nothing to interest you. Everything is uninteresting. Everything is so unimpressive and lacks purpose; it is impossible to do anything. To read, to write – there is no patience and there is not the requisite peace of mind especially for the first [activity:] (reading). Nothing can hold my focus, and the worm of boredom and grief doesn't stop gnawing the heart, and you don’t know how to silence the gnawing pain... – and in truth the situation is awful. We are stuck in Dubna, our dear family – is far from here and torn from here [28] and the Lord [only] knows their situation there and how much they think about us and what will be the end? I just now received greetings from Mlynov, a very painful and depressing greeting. The Austrians deported the few remaining residents in town for various kinds of labor. No food is in the city. No bread, no sugar; kerosene and all essential necessities are impossible to obtain for any amount of money and people are basically dying of hunger. All the houses are filled with soldiers. The new house was utilized for barracks and the house of study and worship (kloyz) – for a stable. The situation is awful. They are sustained^[40] exclusively on potatoes and even they are impossible to obtain. The houses are vacated, desolate and ransacked etc., etc. This news depressed me no end but what can be done. It is possible that we will soon obtain a certificate [allowing us to leave Dubna] to travel home. But in such circumstances how is it possible to travel? To perish there of hunger? How will we enter houses filled with soldiers? Will they let us enter? With what can we prove to them that these are our houses? We are helpless. Yikes, what did we have in the past. [29] Look at the level to which we descended. Our quiet lives have been destroyed. And when I think about the terrible future facing us – the hair on my head stands on end. But with all my strength I try not to let myself think about it, because it weakens my resolve too much [thinking] that we will suffer so much.

The sadness and grief eat my heart and the anguish and wailing attack all of me. This is how it is!

____________________

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Notes

[38a] [Translator’s comment:] Throughout this translation of the diary, I generally ignored the words that Yitzhak crossed out in his diary which are visible in the critical Hebrew edition. This mistake here, where Yitzhak scratched out “Mlynov” and then corrected it to Dubno, I found interesting. He has been in Dubno since the beginning of September and has not made that mistake before. Perhaps because in this entry he is reporting on news he received from Mlynov, he momentarily wrote his wrong location. His hometown was on his mind. [HS] ↩

[39] The poem is written in Ashkenazi accent, the complete version [of the poem] is lost. [Translator’s comment:] The poem has rhyming stanzas that are not easy to capture in English. The rhyming Hebrew is illustrated with the transliterations at the end of sentences. ↩

[40] Meaning “nourished” [rather than to be nurtured or supported by]. ↩

***

[September 19, 1915] Sunday, 11th of [the month of] Tishrei, 5676, in the terrible period, in the forest of Nochitz [now Nadchytsi, Ukraine]^[41]

While still the eve of Yom Kippur, I wanted to write in the diary about what has happened to us up to that day, but I didn’t succeed due to insufficient time and now there are additional momentous incidents, or in more accurate language: new troubles are added which erase the memory of earlier ones... "Each and every day is more cursed than the previous one [Babli Sotah 49a]."^[42] On Thursday [Sept. 16th], we all left Dubna traveling homeward, following the conquest of all the places by the Austrians and the possibility of returning there. Despite my knowing how abnormal and purposeless my journey homeward, still a certain kind of light warmth and inner pleasure flickered in my depressed, remorse-filled heart. "Homeward." Is there any pleasure greater than this?... And if indeed I knew that the home was destroyed, that [30] I would encounter a hair-raising sight there – even so I would want to be there and see it all. Thus we left Dubna on Thursday at noon, the road was difficult and the wagons advanced with difficulty. From here we traveled until late at night and we all (meaning the Shteren family, David Weitz, Hochberg) fully intended to stay overnight in Mlynov, but because the bridges that had been burned down [by the retreating Russians] were not yet fixed by the Austrians, we were forced to travel on. But next to all of Mlynov’s main grounds^[42a] [... ...] the horses were not able to go furtherm and we were forced, despite the bad location, nightfall, and the terrible cold, to spend the night along the way. [...] On the side of the road I encountered [...] the son of Chaim Shteren on his cloak on his warm coat and with his cloak spread out in terrible splendor.^[42b] The ice and cold didn’t [...] to move my feet from all the freezing that attacked them, that night was terrible and horrible [... ... ...] we were next to Mlynov and couldn't enter to see our houses. [... ...] large [...] bitter my soul was then, sick to death [lit. “bitter to death”]. Life itself became sickening to me. The entire road from Dubna we went on foot. Were we accustomed to this? – But despite this we walked. We walked with depressed hearts that were broken to pieces.

Along the way, as the nighttime fog began to spread, we went back out to the road. [31] [We were headed] towards Notzitz, to the home of Chaim Shteren. When we got to Mervits, we met there one of the Mlynov people who were also in Dubna and who were also traveling homeward. I also wanted so very much to go home, but [my brother] Moshe didn't want to go under any circumstances. With the risk of being hungry there, and for what purpose, and despite my objection, he refused to change his mind, and thus we immediately left with everyone for Notzitz. We arrived at the town of Notzitz on Friday [Sept. 17] (on the eve of Yom Kippur) at noon [lit. the 12th hour]. When the Shteren children and everyone entered their houses, they found only four walls; everything was plundered, broken and destroyed. Is it possible to describe what an impression such sights make? After we restored order in the houses and in the bundles that we removed from the wagons, we began to prepare for the fast of Yom Kippur.

An eve of a Yom Kippur like this, obviously, I’ve “tasted”^[42c] only once during my entire life. We ate at a late hour [in the afternoon]. My soul cried bitterly at the memory of Yom Kippur in Father’s home, at the memory of the sanctity that ruled over everything, at the memory of household order. My soul cried bitterly in absolute silence at the great fracture that shattered us. Before the [prayer] Kol Nidre, when each person greeted one another with “Happy New Year,” – everyone cried tearfully and I also cried. Yikes, how broken [32] then was my heart inside me, realizing the situation we were now placed in. And that’s how it was. David Weitz intended immediately following Yom Kippur to travel to the forest of Bokiima to learn about the wellbeing of his parents^[43] and Moshe and I also thought about going with him home but here yesterday, meaning during Yom Kippur, some incidents took place that we didn’t believe possible at all. In the morning, we stood up to pray. We prayed. Through the window we saw Austrian patrols standing by the sides of the houses and looking opposite them and we quickly realized that there were things behind them. It became immediately clear to us that the Austrian army was retreating backwards due to presssure from the Russians who received many reinforcements. Fear attacked everyone and the impact of this is understandable — — — after several hours loaded wagons appeared traveling on the road towards Lutsk and on them were sitting German residents. We asked to where and for what purpose they were traveling and they explained that the Austrians told them they should leave their location before they [the Austrians] retreated and the Russians arrived. Obviously, this [news] intensified our fear many times over. Eleazar Shteren^[44] and Shmuel Hochberg^[45] left quickly towards Lutsk… and I also wanted to accompany them [33] but before I succeeded in bundling up my possessions, they went and I remained, and I didn't want to go alone. The quorum (minyan) obviously broke up and prayer ceased. I was very sorry that I didn't go with them and thus the day passed in great fear. And Yom Kippur ended very badly. Already at night, the Russia soldiers passed by. And some stopped by the house and recounted the retreat of the Austrians. Look at the change that occurred within a few hours! And now many soldiers and Cossacks pass by this place – and the fear is awful but up to now nothing, thank God, touched us and we breathed^[45a] a prayer that in the future the situation will pass peacefully.

That’s the situation. Life is bitter now. Where to turn? We are staying now in the forest Notzitz, but what will the goal be? I imagine for myself the horrible sadness of my parents and of all the dear members of our household ^[45b] – who are worrying about us. Life for me has become barren of passion and color (lit. devoid of content and interest). I stopped being interested in anything. Previously I was interested in the course of the War but now this doesn't interest me at all. Like what? How lost I am and aching, suffering the yoke of life that has become so difficult [34] and bitter. There is only constant fear and worry, and how is it possible to tolerate this pain? We just learned that a Cossack battalion convoy was sent and is stationed here – and now there is a new worry.

That’s how it is. I wanted to write more about my emotional state, but when I survive, God willing, I will write about this another time.

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Notes

[41] A forested area in the southern corner of Nadchytsi in the Rovno oblast (province). [Translator’s comment:] Nadchytsi is about 18 km (about 11 mi) north of Mlynov just west of the road to Lutsk. Yitzhak spells the name two ways in the Hebrew lettering, Nochitz and Notzitz. [HS] ↩

[42] In accordance with [the Talmud] Babli, Sotah 49a, about exile (galut): Said Rabba, "Each and every day is more cursed than the previous one.” ↩

[42a][Translator’s comment:] The Hebrew text is missing words and the exact meaning of the words here are unclear. The words “next to the grounds (ḥāṣēr) of the whole body of Mlynov…” appear to apply to the grounds or yard of the main part of town and perhaps allude to additional destruction that prevented the horses from entering. [HS] ↩

[42b] [Translator’s comment:] The Hebrew text is broken up and the exact meaning of the text here is unclear. It appears to me to be a somewhat snarky critical comment about Shteren’s son. [HS] ↩

[42c] [Translator’s comment:] I suspect Yitzhak is punning here by using the term “tasting” for “experiencing” since Yom Kippur is fast day for traditional Jews. [HS] ↩

[43] Abraham and Ritza (Rachel) Weitz. See Diary 1, note 2. ↩

[44] Eliezar Shteren was son of Chaim Shteren who is mentioned above (page 67, 72) and further on, page 79, 80, 81, 106. [Translator’s comment:] Shteren is mentioned in Notebook 2 journal entries of 1915 on Sept. 5, Sept. 19, Sept. 29, Oct. 4, Oct. 7, 1915. [HS] ↩

[45] The continuation of the diary entry (page 73) mentions Michal Hochberg, his friend and sister. Shmuel is the brother of Michal. ↩

[45a] [Translator’s comment:] The Hebrew term npšnw normally means as a noun, “our souls,” or as a verb “we relaxed.” It is clear that Yitzhak meant that they said a prayer in relief though his Hebrew is odd and not clear here. The verbal form (in niphal) meaning to be refreshed, relaxed, to recuperate is used occasionally in biblical texts, Ex. 31:17, 23:12, 2 Sam. 16:14. [HS] ↩

[45b] [Translator’s comment:] Yitzhak refers to “his parents and household members” repeatedly in this diary during the period he and his brother Moshe are separated from the family and he is wondering about the welfare of his parents, his sisters and his aunt (his mother’s sister) who lived with them in Mlynov. In subsequent entries, I’ve translated this phrase as “family members.” [HS] ↩

***

[September 21, 1915] Tuesday, 13th of [the month of] Tishrei, 5676, in the terrible period, in the forest of Notzitz [Nadchytsi, Ukraine]

When I sit to write my diary entries during this time, I personally don’t know where to begin. The heart is constantly overflowing its banks, and the mind is constantly astounded by the multitude of thoughts – but at the moment I sit at the table to write in the diary – I almost don’t know what to write.

An awful fear attacks me when I’m being creative, my passing thoughts “all told” on our present situation, how amazingly far we have sunk, especially terrible is my sadness recalling the precious books in which we invested all our strength and now – does a single page remain? Ugh, terrible, terrible! I recall how much Moshe and I labored when bringing them down a second time to the basement, how we chose each and every individual precious book, and it did not [35] occur to us that actually they would be trampled by coyotes – – – and how many of Father’s books still remain? I recall that on the last day we carried a complete suitcase with Father’s remaining books up to the attic. It seemed as if they would be safer there, as if the hand of the tyrant wouldn’t reach them there, even though in the depths of our hearts, we knew him well… and now another shard in our pieces (shvareinu). Initially, after the first battle that was nearby, Mlynov remained whole and none of her homes were burned, and this was like a drop of consolation in a large cup of our great sorrow because at least our home remained, amidst the general destruction. But now, in the second battle, when the Austrians retreat, according to the rumors that reach us, the heaviest battles are taking place in Mlynov and Mervits, and now who knows if a sign or memory will remain of all the homes of these unfortunate towns.⁴⁶

How difficult and awful life has become. You live like a gypsy. [36] Always dressed while sleeping on the bundles, in the midst of terrible disorder, not well-bathed for a month. Your own body feels heavy, and you can’t stand yourself.

But there is something that I think to myself, what is the noise [in my head]? Why do I complain incessantly? In as much as during the year of war when I was staying safely in my parents’ home with enough food, healthy – how many of our brethren suffered in other places? And I, based on what I knew about it [then], nonetheless still felt the entire burden of the situation, and here now we also find ourselves in a terrible situation like this. Such is life, I think to myself sometimes. Truly, for my part, I accept it all with love, but in recalling the sadness of my family – my heart is torn apart. And now Moshe and I stay in Notzitz, until when? – the Lord knows. Meanwhile it is not possible to go anywhere, we are like prisoners here in a cage. Truly, we experience ourselves a little lucky in that here the food is better than in the town, there are potatoes here [37] in the gardens and flour is obtained quite reasonably and more – no one is starving here. But the fear is great in our isolation here. The Jews are alone in this entire colony. And when we see some soldier or Cossack our teeth chatter from fear. From every coarse, evil lowlife – we need to be afraid and tremble. And in observing sights like these – the heart bursts from sadness at the sight of our degradation of us Jews (ʿibrîm) in terrible exile (galut).

And why, Lord of the Universe, why is the people of Israel more wretched than the other people on the face of the earth? Sadness of the individual and of the many, sadness of the individual and the sadness of the people and of all His dominion – Lord of the Universe, where is the strength to suffer all this and to hope for a better future? How? – – –

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Notes

[46] “The first battle” in the language of Lamdan refers to the first retreat of Russians from the areas of Galicia and Poland following the Gorlice-Tarnów Offensive at the beginning of May 1915. This prolonged retreat which is known as “The Great Russian Retreat” along the entire Eastern Front continued until the 18th of September, three days before these lines were written in the diary. The Russian military pulled itself together and renewed the battles (what Lamdan calls “the second battle”) which passed literally through Mlynov, which was located along the line of Vilna-Pinsk-Lutsk-Lemberg. See the schematic of the halting withdrawal line in Douglas Wilson Johnson, “The Great Russian Retreat” Geographical Review, 1:2 (February 1916), p. 87. [Translator’s comment:] I interpret Yitzhak’s reference to the “first battle” differently. I believe he is referring to the beginning of the War which he wrote about in August-September 1914 in Diary 1, when wounded soldiers were being brought into Mlynov but the town was spared. He is contrasting that period of the War (the first battle) with the recent Great Russian Retreat (the second battle) where the fighting was now happening in Mlynov and Mervits.[HS] ↩

***

[September 26, 1915] Sunday, Sukkot [the Festival of Booths],^[46a] the 2nd [3rd?]^[46b] of the intermediate days of Sukkot ("Chol HaMoed Sukkot"), 5676, in the terrible period, in the forest of Notzitz [Nadchytsi, Ukraine]

The holiday of Sukkot [the Festival of Booths]. With how much internal pleasure, and how much abundant festivity, I would celebrate it in Father’s home. The Sukkah (the temporary booth) was built and arranged with good taste, the house clean. Every corner sparkles from purity and cleanliness. [38] We arrive [home] from the synagogue, enter our Sukkah, open its covering. The Sukkah is full of festive smells and special warmth permeates every limb. We sanctify [the holiday with a blessing] over a cup of [alcoholic] beverage and eat various sweet delicacies and you feel yourself so light and good among your parents (ʾăbôtay)^[46c] next to [?] your beautiful home the […] going to eat the meal. Father, Moshe and I would enter the neighbors’ [sukkot] and other houses […] wash the hands and bring [… … … … … …]. The image of the holiday appears before me in all its beauty and splendor, with its entire lofty idyllic experience, and more of the picture stands out before my eyes and in my imagination – My soul is pained and my heart torn to pieces. I’ve already spent Rosh Hashanah [the New Year] and Yom Kippur [Day of Atonement] wandering in a foreign place (nēkār) but during those holidays I didn’t feel myself as depressed and desolate like [I felt] last Wednesday, the eve of Sukkot. “I didn’t find my place” – as people say [idiomatically] – what strong, burning longings for the holiday of Sukkot in Father’s home attacked me – alas, and here I didn’t bath, and I didn’t even change to another outfit [39] and not only that but there was no new white shirt to wear, my body became a burden to me. I didn’t feel the presence of the festival at all. Everything was profane and secular, and there was no sign of festive splendor. I was so depressed and desolate… like a hunk of heavy lead resting on and troubling my heart and giving me no rest. I am reminded of my parents (ʾăbôtay) and all my beloved family members who are obviously celebrating the festival of Sukkot in Baranovka [now Baranivka, Ukraine],^[46d] and I imagine for myself their awful sorrow in worrying about our fate; I was reminded of all this, and I spilled my guts from all the sadness and grief. “Troubles find their place” [Yiddish version of the idiom:] “(The troubles find themselves place”)^[47] say the multitude, and indeed the words of the folk saying are true as we see in actual lives, but in my case the opposite is [i.e., the troubles are continuous and not in one place]. In the first days of our wandering episode, my heart was not so heavy; these events made me forget the details of the terrible storm that beset us, and there were moments that my heart was a bit light, but now, from day to day, from hour to hour, from moment to moment, my sadness expands many times over and the lead in my heart expands and weighs it down [40] more and more, with every single moment details of the terrible storm stand out before me more and more and cut my heart to pieces. Shreds. Every time the memory of the precious books occurs to me, all by itself I think of the books’ value, which ones I had and how many, and every time I think about another group of books which was so precious to me, I picture in my imagination the bookcase with its arrangement of books. There in […] the hallway stood a bookcase which was full of books and books. I remember that each time I entered the house from outside, my first path was – to the hallway to the bookcase of books, [… … …] and thus [… … … … … …] doubled [… … … … …] to the spiritual treasure [… … … …] that each and every book [ … ]^[49] [what] has become of this precious collection? I imagine the piles of pages torn and scattered in the basement. Yikes, this precious spiritual treasure that was my source of knowledge during my entire youth, from which I drew help for my poetic talent, – what will become of this precious collection? In each and every moment, the memory of these precious books comes to me and my soul ponders all the grief and sorrow and can’t find rest.

In remembering our home and its household items generally, and in remembering the hominess, as they say – “ours” – what purpose is achieved [dwelling on this]? We were rich, thank God, in everything. What did our home lack? And now? The Passover dishes [- what will happen to them?]. Yikes! How much beauty and festive charm they had, all these dishes carried with them some [associated] impression from a festival [when they were used], and all without doubt are broken, stolen, and no [associated] memory remains. All have surely been destroyed, all ruined, the end our idyllic family life has arrived. The domestic serenity and bliss are gone, and now, Lord of the Universe, where shall we go?!

This is how thoughts torture me constantly and nonstop, and in each and every moment they weigh me down more and more and suck [42] my lifeforce from my soul, because how could it be otherwise? In dredging up in my mind all the details of our terrible destruction – yes, the heart is liable to explode from all the sorrow. As much as I try to find consolation from other perspectives – I don’t find a single drop of consolation in this bitter cup of poison. Sometimes I am also angry at myself for complaining so much at a time when that I am not alone [in suffering] and tens of thousands of people now suffer in the world as I do and even more severely, but even this doesn’t help to lighten my sorrow a bit.

And admidst a sea of distress and worry that attacks me, my body – I don’t forget, God forbid, my essential aspiration and the situation of my people and my precious land in all that we suffer now from every course evil person – I will not forget the rest and freedom I will find only there in the Land of Israel and how will the heart not burst from sorrow? Every time the soul shudders in fear seeing some soldier or Russian Cossack who want only to annoy us Jews. If truly hope weakens and despair wins and I drown only in a sea of sorrow and worry – but still I dream about the precious land of my ancestors, the land of past and future.

[43] And there is news. Yesterday we had a night of no rest. Suddenly we realized that the Russian army was retreating back from this area. We all got up in fear about the new developments. The shooting became frequent and close, from a distance we heard the moving convoys etc., with great fear the night passed. In the morning, we went outside and there was silence all around. No Russians, no Austrians. The telegraph of the Russian army ceased and meanwhile we live in fear without knowing our fate. Look how fate plays with us and casts us about this way and that like a football [lit. game ball].

___________________

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Notes

[46a] [Translator’s comment:] Sukkot, called the Festival or Feast of Booths, is one of three biblically based pilgrimage festivals in which Israelites were instructed to make pilgrimage to the Temple in Jerusalem. Biblically, it is associated with the fall harvest and commemoration of the Exodus from Egypt. Traditional Jews build a booth (Sukkah) in which they eat and sleep during the festival, which lasts for seven days. The festival is observed differently in the Diaspora and Israel. In the Diaspora, the festival is 8 days. The first two days are sacred festival days when work is not performed like on the Sabbath. They are followed by four intermediate days (the 3rd through the 7th day). The eighth day is Shemini Atzeret followed by Simchat Torah. [HS] ↩

[46b] [Translator’s comment:] Chol HaMoed (profane days of the festival) refers to the “intermediate” days between the first sacred days of Sukkot and the festival days following Sukkot. Outside the Land of Israel, two days are designated sacred at the start of the festival. The editor of Yitzhak’s diary added the comment in square brackets that the date of this diary entry was the 3rd day of Chol Hamoed (the intermediate days, which was the 18th of Tishrei) and not as Yitzhak indicated the 2nd day of Chol Hamoed. I believe, however, the editor based his comment on the Jewish calendar as celebrated in Israel when only one day is a sacred day at the beginning of the festival, whereas outside the Land of Israel, two days are celebrated as holy days. Therefore, this diary entry is, as Yitzhak said, on the 2nd day of Chol Hamoed. The dates as I understand them that year are:

Eve of Sukkot – Wednesday, Sept. 22, 1915
Day 1 of Sukkot - Thursday, Sept. 23, 1915 a sacred day
Day 2 of Sukkot – Friday, Sept. 24, 1915 a sacred day outside the Land of Israel
Day 3 of Sukkot – Saturday, Sept. 25, 1915 the first day of Chol HaMoed, the intermediate days
Day 4 of Sukkot - Sunday, Sept. 26, 1915 the second day of Chol HaMoed, the intermediate days. This is the day that Yitzhak wrote his diary entry.
Day 5 of Sukkot - Monday, Sept. 27, 1915 the third day of Chol HaMoed, the intermediate days.
Day 6 of Sukkot – Tuesday, Sept. 28, 1915 the fourth day of Chol HaMoed, the intermediate days.
Day 7 of Sukkot – Wednesday, Sept. 29, 1915 Hoshana Rabba, the last day of Sukkot.
Shemini Atzeret – Thursday, Sept. 30, 1915 [HS] ↩

[46c] [Translator’s comment:] Yitzhak often uses the word hôrîm when talking about parents (see, for example, July 23, Aug. 2nd, Aug. 18, 1914). Sometimes, however, he uses the term ʾăbôtay which can mean ancestors or fathers when he is referring to parents as he does here (see also Aug. 19th, 1914). [HS] ↩

[46d] Now Baranivka, Ukraine in the Zhytomyr Oblast, 193 km (~120 m) mostly due east of Mlynov. ↩

[47] Literally, the troubles all live in one place (Yiddish). ↩

[48] Illegible words. ↩

[49] Four illegible lines. ↩

***

[September 27, 1915] Monday, 3rd^[49a] [day] of the intermediate days of the Festival of Booths (Chol HaMoed Sukkot), 5676, in the terrible period, in the forest of Notzitz [Nadchytsi, Ukraine]

Alas, what great boredom attacks me all these days. "Idleness brings boredom" – says the proverb,^[50] and truly this boredom is the result of terrible idleness that I am stuck in. Every day, you go about here and there without work or interest of any kind; You go about here and there and the various ruminations and thoughts about your situation and the general situation – depress the heart terribly, – depress the heart seriously, and if only I found some book to read to lighten a bit the idleness and boredom that comes with it, but where is it possible here to obtain a book here? [44] To sit with my different papers and write – is impossible for me for these reasons: a) all my papers, my writings and my notebooks are properly and well bound in a sewn parcel, and I don't want to open^[51] the parcel, given that I don't have a needle and thread to fix and sew them up as before. For who knows what will occur at any given moment. Therefore, I want this spiritual collection of mine that is here in a place of danger to always be hidden and ready for the shoulder or wagon; b) I know clearly that my present emotional state is not fit now to write and even writing things influenced by this present time (the terrible period). The heart is too foolish. From tragedy and grief... For these reasons, I am not able to engage in any writing effort, and therefore I suffer terrible boredom.

Today, I didn't suffer so much from boredom because I engaged a bit in various kinds of work, in digging potatoes, and drawing water, etc.

My diary entry from yesterday I finished yesterday when new incidents were happening. Now the situation has become a little bit clearer. The Austrians arrived. But [they acted] like experienced individuals [talking] to a son^[2] whose heart quivers and shakes so much: Maybe? Who knows [that this is the role they are playing]?... And I already so very much want [45] to be in another situation, to know where to turn. How much I already long to be in Mlynov, to visit our home and see if a vestige of our assets remain there.

During all these days, I actually aspired to go to Russia, meaning places under the control of the Russians, to see my parents (hôrayy) and precious family members in Baranovka [Baranivka, Ukraine], I would find a material foundation for myself, because it seems to me that I would obtain lessons there for [teaching] the Hebrew language, or I would be able to establish a Hebrew school there. But then in remembering that that after a short time, it was possible my period of military eligibility would arrive, I let go of that aspiration a bit. Meanwhile, I have to think of myself and reality does what she does and grabs the bridle and reality takes its toll and grabs the bridle of life in her hands... in the current situation, meaning at a time when these places are located in the control of the enemy, I will not be able to travel to Russia anyway. In this kind of situation, what is there to do? Where to turn? Surely this question is a weighty one, but, in any case, it is too premature [to decide] in light of the present situation which is not yet completely clear. When we live, the Lord permiting, we will see what the future brings – then we will know.

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Notes

[49a] [Translator’s comment:] See note [46b] with the dates for each day of Sukkot 1915. The editor suggests that Yitzhak was writing on the 4th day of Chol Hamoed and not the 3rd day of Chol Hamoed as Yitzhak wrote. However, as discussed in notes to the previous entry, it appears the editor was following a Hebrew calendar schedule for celebrations in the Land of Israel. The observances differ in the Diaspora and it appears Yitzhak was correct this day was the 3rd day of Chol Hamoed. [HS] ↩

[50] Quoting the Mishnah, Ketubot 5:4 [pericope 5:5 in my version]: Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel says: Even one who vows that his wife is prohibited from doing any work must divorce her and give her the payment for her marriage contract, since idleness leads to boredom. ↩

[51] [The Hebrew can be read as] to open (לִפְתוֹח) and it is possible the intent is the word (לְִפַתֵּחַ) meaning to unpack or unbundle. ↩

[Translator’s comment:] The grammar here makes the meaning of this sentence uncertain. The Hebrew letters (lamed, bet, nun, vav) appear to mean “to his son.” Hence my interpretation is that Austrians are reassuring the residents like an experienced person to his scared son [meaning the residents]. My translation colleague understands this sentence differently and takes the Hebrew word as meaning “our hearts.” “As persons experienced [already in the war], our hearts are nervous shaking.” This later interpretation in my view doesn’t account for the lack of grammatical agreement between the adverbs “nervous” and “shaking” in the singular and “our hearts” in the plural. Nor does it explain the words that follow: “Perhaps? Who knows?” [HS] [HS] ↩

***

[September 29, 1915] The [festival day of] Hoshana Rabbah,^[51b] [Wednesday, 21st of Tishrei], 5676, in the terrible period, in the forest of Notzitz [Nadchytsi, Ukraine]

[Reflecting on] the past [festival of] Hoshana Rabba in Father's house.

The air is full of pleasant smells of the festival. In the morning the bustle increased. Going to the prayer [service in the synagogue]. There is a large crowd there. The prayer [service] is taking longer than expected. Arriving home and entering with the greeting "Happy New Year" [Shana Tovah], entering the Sukkah [the booth] and saying prayers of sanctification over some [alcoholic] drink, afterwards going to eat the special food for Hoshana Rabba, and what festive charm and enchantment spilling all around; and what special warmth softening the heart, and everything so close to your heart, so pleasant.

Yes. This day in all its details is photographed in my imagination, and how much my soul hurts now at a time that I am spending this holiday in a foreign place (“nēkār”), while wandering depressed and miserable without purpose and goal. If I were in a foreign place under different circumstances, namely, [if] I traveled from Father's house to another place and I was staying in a foreign place, I wouldn't suffer so much knowing that in a faraway small town, we have a home, where there is a holiday, and there is everything, and only I stay here, and therefore this [staying in a foreign place] would be no big deal, – I could return to Father's house and then enjoy myself also. But now, knowing the particular way I came to be in a foreign place – my soul secretly cries out, now I am lost here, because we no longer have a home, because all of it [47] was destroyed and stolen. And regarding the parents and my beloved family members – I understand their emotional state now during the festivals.^[51c] My soul silently cries over all this, and my heart is torn to pieces. And regarding the holiday [of Hoshana Rabbah] I don't feel anything at all here, everything is so profane, so profane. I am always in the same garment, and a shirt to change into – doesn’t exist. Those that already got dirty, there is no place to put them for laundering, to wash adequately is impossible, and your body becomes a burden to you, and thus in your heart you feel broken and depressed, and until when - God knows. If I were able to go now to Russia to be with our parents and our beloved family members and to live as a well-washed and attired man – I wouldn't feel so concerned by this point (kəbār)^[51d] about standing for the military [i.e., being drafted]^[51e] and I would go [to my family there] because this waiting sickens me, and to travel far to seek some work in Poland or in Austria I think impossible, and therefore what is to be done? And here recently we also began to suffer a bit from [the lack of] food, because we are fending for ourselves at this point (kəbār), and we have basically nothing to eat, because our bread is very bitter and it is impossible to eat it, and apart from bread we have nothing; there was [48] a half-poundn (litra) of butter, and now in a little bit it will be used up and meanwhile it is impossible to buy more, and if not for the wife of Chaim Shteren who invites us every day to eat from her food – we would be truly starving.

I would write about additional matters, but the hour is already late and today is the eve of the festival (Shemini Atzeret) , and even though I am not in my home, I need to hurry, for despite everything the holiday spirit of the festival eve is still planted in me...

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Notes

[51b] [Translator’s comment:] Hoshana Rabbah is the seventh day of the Jewish holiday of Sukkot, the 21st day of the month of Tishrei. This day is marked by a special synagogue service, the Hoshana Rabbah, in which seven circuits are made by the worshippers with their lulav and etrog, while the congregation recites prayers. It is customary for the scrolls of the Torah to be removed from the ark during this procession. Hoshana Rabbah is considered the end of the high holiday judgment period, and it is characterized by special rituals and prayers. It is the final day of the judgment that began on Rosh Hashanah and is often called "the end of the judgment." [HS] ↩

[51c][Translator’s comment:] I believe what Yitzhak means here is that he understands how bereft his family is during the holiday not knowing the fate of himself and his brother since they are now in territory captured by the Austrian military and his family probably does not yet know their fate. [HS] ↩

[51d] [Translator’s comment:] Yitzhak uses the Hebrew word (כְּבָר) [kəbār] frequently, as he does in this sentence. In modern Hebrew the word means “already” or “soon.” In Yitzhak’s Hebrew, the term functions to signify a change of condition, a transition to a new state, or even as emotional emphasis. The term can carry shades of meaning like “now as things stand,” “by this point,” "as it turns out,” “now that,” “in the present situation.” ↩

[51e] [Translator’s comment:] The idiom “standing for the military” refers to being called up or standing before the draft board and is likely a rendering of similar Russian and Yiddish expressions. It appears that Yitzhak is saying in exaggerated fashion that he’d trade a good wash and clean clothes for the risk of being conscripted. Perhaps the fear of being drafted explains why Yitzhak and his brother, Moshe, originally fled Mlynov without his parents and siblings. [HS] ↩

***

October 1915

[October 4, 1915] Monday, 26th [of the month of] Tishrei, 5676, in the terrible period, in the forest of Notzitz [Nadchytsi, Ukraine]

Thus the holidays are now over. The pleasant holidays, [namely] the festival of Sukkot – [also called] “Chag HaAsif” [Holiday of the Harvest], Shemini Atzeret, Simchat Torah, which I used to spend enjoyably and pleasantly in the home of my parents – they passed us by now in a foreign place, and moreover in a terrible manner like this. The festivals are over, but I felt nothing of it being a festival? What a profane spirit ruled over everything, and the sadness and worry so very much depressed and continues to depress the heart so very much with no ability to feel the spirit of the festival. The pleasant festivals are over which had such a prominent and pleasant impact in the small town in Father’s home, the home that was the clean and decorated to honor the festival, the festive clothes, the festive foods, the house of worship, the worship, [49] everything was so close, so close to the heart, and this is the first time in my life that the festivals passed by in such a terrible manner like this: not washed, not attired [well], with a heart full of grief and sorrow ready to burst from pain, in a foreign place, while wandering, without purpose and hope, without your knowing which new trouble is likely to befall you each and every moment, at a time when life is so dangerous and bitter. Look how zesty were those holidays, but [now] in this situation, is it possible to also feel some spirit of the holiday? And this kind of situation still goes on and continues, and the good Lord knows until when.[printed page 80]

Yesterday, leaving here were David Weitz and his wife, Michel Hochberg his wife and his sister. They all traveled to Boremel,^[52] but the former [the Weitzes] will travel from there to Horochov [today Horokhiv, Ukraine],^[53] to their parents, Abraham Weitz and his family members who traveled there.^[53a] Of course, the separation was difficult. - - - Remaining here are Mr. Chaim Shteren and his family and the widow Chantzi Goldberg^[54] and her family. Today Chaim Shteren traveled to Lutsk to consult there about what he should do, whether to remain here or to leave. Traveling with him also was [my brother] Moshe [who went] to learn if [50] residents of the town of Hubyn [Hubyn Peshyi]^[55] are still in place, and if so, it is possible we will make our way there, because it is enough already staying here.

__________

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Notes

[52] Boremel a small town in the oblast of Rovno located about 30 km southwest of the forest of Nadchytsi, and forty km south of the city of Lutsk. [Translator’s comment:] Boremel and Horokhiv are both west of Nadchytsi and were under Austrian control. [HS] ↩

[53] Horokhiv (also spelled Horochov or Gorokhov), a small town in the district (oblast) of Volyn located a distance of 60 km west of the forest of Nadchytsi, about 20 km southwest of Lutsk. [Translator’s comment:] On contemporary maps, Horokhiv appears to be 75 km from Nadchytsi along roads and 52 km southwest from Lutsk. [HS] ↩

[53a] [Translator’s comment:] The Weitz family was still living in the forest of Bokiima when Yitzhak was writing about them in the summer of 1914. They were apparently still there as late as September 15 when Yitzhak mentioned in his diary that David Weitz was hoping to head there to see his family. In the last few weeks, they must have fled further West into Austrian controlled territory to Horokhiv, to get away from the fighting on the front lines. [HS] ↩

[54] No details about her are known. [Translator's comment:] Perhaps it is entirely coincidental that a woman by this name, Chultzie Goldberg (later called Helen Lederer), later wrote her memories of their evacuation from Mlynov during WWI in an essay called "In Pain from the First World War," for the Mlynov-Mervits Memorial Book, pp. 137-38. She was a young girl at the time and not this woman, but perhaps they were distant relatives. [HS] ↩

[55] The town Hubyn “the first” (Hubyn Pershyi) is 30 km southwest of Lutsk to be distinguished from just Hubyn (which is also a district in Volyn) about 50 km west of Lutsk. Moshe, the brother of Yitzhak Lamdan, stayed in this village [Hubyn Pershyi] at the end of 1914 for the work purposes. See Diary 1 [Aug. 2, 1914]. ↩

***

[October 7, 1915] Thursday, 29th of Tishrei, 5676, in the terrible period, Lutsk

For several weeks, during our wanderings in a foreign place, we relaxed a little in one place for a time, in the forest of Notzitz [Nadchytsi] with the family of Chaim Shteren, D. [David] Weitz, M. [Michel] Hochberg and more. And there we didn’t lack edible food, and we had our fill, thank God, and we stayed in peace and quietude as much as is feasible at this time of course… – But then we left the forest of Notzitz and are wandering onward, lost and roaming with broken hearts, with souls filled with terrible pain. And this is how it unfolded: On Monday [Oct. 4], as I already mentioned in my previous [diary] entry, Moshe traveled with Chaim Shteren to Lutsk to find out about the residents of the village Hubyn [Hubyn Pershyi] and he learned that they still remained in place, and he decided to travel there. And Chaim Shteren decided to travel with his family members to the village of Zateritz [now Zatursi, Ukraine]^[51] and Moshe decided that I also would travel with him in the role of teacher to his children, because Chaim, on his own accord, mentioned to him [Moshe] that he was thinking this. I was against this, because I didn’t want to be separated from Moshe, because it is enough already that we are torn from our beloved parents and all our family members – and why should we [Moshe and me] also be torn from one another at a time when we don’t know what the day will bring? Second, I knew that the Shteren family itself didn’t know more about the manner it would travel to the village, whether it would find there an apartment for everyone, so why should I additionally accompany them and be more of a burden to them? For these reasons, and others like it, I objected to the proposal of my brother that I should travel with Ch. [Chaim] Shteren [print page 81] to Zateritz. But then yesterday evening we arrived in Lutsk and the proposal fell apart all by itself. Chaim Shteren learned that in Zateritz, all the houses were filled with soldiers and officers, and there is no place to rest one’s head, and even water is difficult to obtain. When they heard this, they themselves regretted that they left Notzitz and so in any case I was not able to travel with them, even though despite this, they went there. So I will accompany Moshe to the place he will go, and we are planning to make our way to Hubyn, but of course it is necessary to obtain a travel-permit from the local Commandant [the local military person in charge]. After investing much effort, we were able to obtain [52] a travel-permit for each person among us for 3.60 [rubles].^[57] But how is it possible to obtain a wagon to travel to Hubyn? The road is long – 30 verts.^[58] And how it is possible to go on foot when we have other things? Leaving our things here and going on foot there – is also impossible because what can we leave behind given that all our possessions are necessary and essential? We don't know what to do. Yesterday, in the evening, when we arrived in Lutsk, we entered with Ch. Sh. [Chaim Shteren] to the same house where Chaikel Weitz and Yisrael Lender^[59] from Boremel were [staying] and we stayed the night there. But now we brought our things to a home whose owner is a relative to the residents of Hubyn and here we will spend the night. And here I am writing this [diary] entry.

And it seems to me now, there was in addition to my broken and depressed heart nothing worst that from the terrible day in which we left the homes of our beloved fathers (ʾăbôtênû), there was nothing worse than my broken and depressed heart.^[59a] I am writing the present entry with tears choking my throat and hanging from my eyelashes [about] to burst forth but we steel our heart like a stone ravaged by time … and how can I not cry? About my own situation, I will not cry. I am young still and whatever happens will be easy to bear. [53] But I will cry about what befell my beloved parents before their old age: the house is definitely destroyed and everything in it.^[59b] And what will they do now? We lived a serene and peaceful life, and we found, thank God, a comfortable livelihood. What now is the purpose? I know that in addition to their own sorrow and awful grief, they have the added sorrow worrying about us because they definitely think that we were lost. How can they suffer so much? How can they gird themselves with enough strength? If only we could at least notify at least notify them that we are okay – how happy we would be then. A very great happiness. My heart is so broken and numb that I am not able to write and the tears drop on the pages because the pain is very great. Meanwhile we are staying in the city. And this has affected me negatively. I can’t stand the noise and commotion, and I especially can’t look at the military men. I’m fed up with it all. The world is wretched and covered with a large stain [?]-blood^[60] – yikes, how difficult for the heart. It is not possible to write. – – – [print page 82]

Afterwards, my well of my tears opened up, and I spent much time in the dark of night on the couch weeping bitterly, woe how I wept. – – –

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Notes

[56] The village Zateritz (Zaturtsi, Ukraine) is located in the Volyn district, about 40 km [25 m] west of the city of Lutsk. ↩

[57] A sum of 3.6 rubles. ↩

[58] Verts, the measure of distance that was standard in Russia, equivalent of 1.0668 km. Thirty verts are equivalent of thirty-two km [19.8 m]. ↩

[59] Referring to one of the family members of Avraham Lender, cousins of the Weitz family mentioned in the beginning of Notebook 1 [see June 29, 1914], positioned to travel the land of Israel. ↩

[59a] [Translator’s comment:] The word order in this sentence is odd and Yitzhak’s precise meaning is not certain. [HS] ↩

[59b] [Translator’s comment:] This is the first time that Yitzhak says definitively in his diary that his house was destroyed. Earlier he wondered about its fate and the fate of his library of books left behind. This is the first time he is definitive about its destruction. Perhaps some new information reached him while he was in Nachytsi. [HS] ↩

[60] Some unreadable words. ↩

***

[October 8, 1915] Sabbath Eve, [Friday, 30th of Tishrei] 1st day of the new month of Cheshvan, in the terrible period, in the city of Lutsk

We are still staying meanwhile in Lutsk and apparently will stop here [for the Sabbath]. It is possible that on Sunday, with the Lord’s help, there will be a wagon and we will travel to Hubyn [now Hubyn Pershyi, Ukraine] because yesterday Moshe was with Aharon from Rervitz (now Hryhorovychi, Ukraine)^[61] the village next to Hubyn, and he said that on Sunday he will rent a wagon to travel home, and we can travel together with him, but how the situation will go down we don't truly know.

It is exceedingly difficult for us staying in Lutsk; we are simply starving here. The loaves of bread that we baked for ourselves while in the forest of Notzitz (Nadchytsi), we guarded like the apple of our eyes so as not to finish them quickly because here the bread is terribly expensive and almost none is to be found. What do we eat? – a glass of tea and a slice of bread – and that's all, and we are simply starving and it is impossible to maintain even a little [weight] of the body that is shattered and broken from all the grief and hardship. Look at where we've come!

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Notes

[61] No details are known about him. He is mentioned another time in the diary (further on [Heb.] pp. 83, 86, [see entry for Oct. 13, 1915], Notebook 3: p. 203 [see Mar. 7, 1917]). Rervitz (now Hryhorovychi, Ukraine), a village that was 25 km (15 m) southwest of Lutsk and 5 km (3 m) northeast of the village of Hubyn. ↩

***

[October 10, 1915] Sunday, 2nd of [the month of] Cheshvan, 5676, in the terrible period, Lutsk

Our hopes, that on Sunday (i.e., today) we would obtain a wagon ride to Hubyn, were disappointed and we are forced still to stay [55] here in Lutsk in this hellhole (Gehinnom) and to simply starve, literally. We also hoped that today someone would come from Hubyn but this hope was disappointed as well. No [option] remains for us except to put the satchel on the shoulder and walk. Do we have another choice? What should we do? Should we remain here in Lutsk at a time when every day rent for lodging continues to grow, and the little bread that we have left from Notzitz is being used up. And now we have only one loaf of bread left, and if we remain here another single day, we won't have anything to eat.

The heart is harder than iron if it doesn't burst from pain at every single hour that we need to look hungrily at a piece of bread, without eating our fill, but rather to save as much as possible for the next day, yikes! Lord of the Universe! What did we lack on the family table [lit. of our beloved fathers]? So serene and so normal were the home lives, but what do we have now? Our hair bristles from all the sorrow and grief thinking about the situation of our families. Will this situation really not improve? Really? I can't picture this in my imagination ... How much [56] I want at the very least to be in Mlynov and see what has become of our possessions. But is it possible [print page 83] that [only] a memory remains of everything left in the home? If only at least the home remains intact, and they didn't burn or destroy it. Yikes, how much I wanted to know what was done there! But it is impossible now to go to Mlynov; it is certainly a battlefield there now.

From all the sadness and grief, I have been changed almost into a different person; in my eyes everything is uninteresting and meaningless, everything lacks taste and vitality, and all my thoughts are stuck exclusively on my my parents (ʾăbôtay) and beloved family members and our possessions, and in their sorrow my entire life is completely focused forever. Not for myself and my body do I feel regret, but in all the worry and grief that I feel, I remember the connection they have with our earlier lives. They [?] are at their source,^[61a] and when I am reminded via this of my home life from just yesterday and all of it – I spill my guts from so much grief and sorrow.

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Notes

[61a] [Translator’s comment:] The meaning of the last few sentences in Hebrew is not entirely clear. But it seems that the gist is that Yitzhak is expressing the view that his grief is not for his own losses but for the losses of his family. [HS] ↩

***

[October 13, 1915] Wednesday, 5th of [the month of] Cheshvan, in the terrible period, in the village of Hubyn [now Hubyn Pershyi, Ukraine]

Thus we found ourselves here now in the village of Hubyn. Let me write here about the events along the road until we arrived here.

Already Monday night of this week, we decided not to tarry [57] longer in Lutsk and starve even though the money we brought with us was enough. In the morning, we decided to leave the city by foot with bundles on the shoulder. That night we bound up our things and prepared it all for the road. That same night the clouds cleared from the skies and the stars appeared all about and we hoped that the coming day would be clear which would make the long and difficult route easier. However, to our great sorrow when we got up in the morning, the rain was coming down, and it was cold outside. Nevertheless, we didn't want to change our minds knowing that the same day, in other words Tuesday, Mr. Aharon from Rervitz was traveling home. I went there to ask if they would be able to take with them a bundle. Their reply was positive. I brought my bundle there, a bundle of my papers and notebooks, and one parcel – a warm blanket, my old coat, and the thin cover ([in Yiddish:] sheet)^[62] – we left in Lutsk, and the other objects we decided to take with us.

And so, that same Tuesday morning, at about 10 or 11 am [lit. the 10th hour or near the 11th hour],^[62a] we left Lutsk. After we passed over, I took my bundle that was the biggest [58] and heaviest, put it on my shoulder, and we continued walking. The road was very difficult, the rain fell and drenched us and the mud was extensive, and walking in it was challenging. The road was so difficult, and the bundle bothered my shoulder and it soaked me with sweat. On the road we took to leave the city [print page 84], a young man from Galicia, from Lemberg,^[63] who was going to Horchov [Horokhiv], fell in with us and we walked onward together. Several times we stopped to rest because the road was difficult and exhausting and the heart was full of bitterness^[64a] and pain over our fortune^[64b] and I actually thought to myself, "if only Mother^[64c] could see me in this situation ..." with great effort we reached the village of Irki (now Hirka Polonka, Ukraine),^[65] 7 verst [7.4 km / 4.62 m] from Lutsk. We entered a house where Jews formerly lived and was now destroyed, the doors and windows were gone, the house empty, only shards of dishes and glass were strewn around. In the corridor of that house, we rested from the travail on the road (I checked out this house and I conjured up a vision of our home, and it would be better than good if it were in this condition...). We took down our bundles from our shoulders and sat down to eat a little bread and a piece of the brined fish [59] which we had. We were still eating when we saw Mr. Aharon from Rervitz (Hryhorovychi, Ukraine) traveling along. We went out to meet him and asked the owner of the wagon if he would take our bundles with him and we would pay him for this. He granted our request and took our bundles from us, and we walked on our way. The road was so very difficult, and the mud was awful and extensive, the moisture of the mud penetrated my boots and soaked my feet but especially my right foot. But despite this, I suffered and stumbled on and with a painful and grieving heart expressing [the Talmud’s sentiment]: “woe to the children who were exiled from their father's table, and woe to the fathers who were expelled from their own table.”^[66] – – – But after this I wasn't able to tolerate it more from all the moisture pinching my foot with intense pain as if causing shrinking. I began to ask Moshe to give me his handkerchief to wrap my right foot which was wrapped with a small bandage, but he didn't want to, saying that it was dusty – "But couldn't he wash it?" – I said to him, but he stuck with his first response, and pinching pain pressed my heart – first from the pain of my foot and the second from the pain of the estranged relationship [lit. controversy] [60] between us in realizing what our relationship has come to,[namely] that Moshe is more troubled about his dirty handkerchief than my foot which is killing me and when it is possible to catch a cold – And I broke down crying – – – and this crying was not only about the foot and the controversy between us but about everything that happened to us – – – about our fortune and the situation we are stuck in, literally beggars wandering. And the beloved parents, will they know about this? Yes, I sobbed uncontrollably, a crying that poured from deep inside my heart. [print page 85]

When Moshe saw I began to cry, he at that point extended to me the handkerchief, but I kept going and crying. After we traveled some distance with the pain continuing to bother my foot, I stopped walking. Moshe took off my boot and I wrapped the kerchief on my foot, and we walked on, and in thus my pain was of course diminished.

The day began to wane and the evening continued to draw closer and we walked weakened and stumbling in the mud on our way to the village of Cherikov (Charukiv, Ukraine)^[67] that was before the village of Rervitz [Hryhorovychi).^[68] With great effort, with what was left of our strength, we kept our legs going until we came to Cherikov and because the swamp in the village was terribly broad, we descended the sides of the road to the fields and decided to rest in the village in the home of a Jew. We continued walking and passed alongside an Austrian military convoy^[69] and three Austrian officers were standing there. We greeted them, and they asked us about our route, where we came from and where we were going, and we told them. One of them approached us and ordered us to show him our travel documents. We showed it to him, and he further ordered that we open our clothes in front of him. We did as he ordered while trembling from fear, a new incident to add insult to injury… He studied the travel documents and found something missing and was angry and furious and immediately ordered some petty officer^[70] to bring us to the gendarmerie [military police]^[71] and that when we walk in front he would be behind us so that if we bolted, he would shoot us immediately with his pistol. And there in the gendarmerie, we would be given documents for the district we wanted. We entered the gendarmerie and the petty officer presented us to the soldiers there and described to them a different version of the incident such that [62] we were already identified as lawbreakers. But luckily for us all the soldiers were Hungarian, and they didn’t understand his words. Only one of them understood a bit of the Polish-Czech language, and we explained the truth of the situation to him and the reason for our coming to the gendarmerie. The petty officer left and from the corridor we entered the house. The soldiers lit the lamp, and we asked that they give us bread, and they obliged and gave us bread. Afterwards, the head of the gendarmerie arrived and he took our documents from us and wrote on them words on them authorizing us to go to the district we wanted, and told us we were free and could go. But since it was dark outside and the swamp was extensive, and we didn’t know where to turn in the dark of night, we requested he permit us to remain and spend the night [print page 86] in the house of the gendarmerie. He granted our wish, but took our documentation from us. This is how we spent all night next to the table, partly sitting, partly lying down, but no way able to sleep and the night was so very endless for us [63] … until morning broke. We waited until the head of the gendarmerie got up from sleeping and returned the documentation so that we could continue onward. When he got up, he immediately returned the documents to us, and we left on the road to Rervitz. The sun came out, and the skies were clear, not like the day before. At 10 am [the 10th hour]^[71a] we arrived in Rervitz to the home of Mr. Aharon; there we drank tea, we ate and we sat for a while and rested. We wanted to take our bundles [that Mr. Aharon transported for us], but Mr. Aharon and his household stopped us, because better that the bundles stay with them and we go without them, since there will certainly be someone [visiting] with them from Hubyn who could bring us our stuff. That’s what we did. From Rervitz we went to the village of Arinov [now Uhryniv, Ukraine]^[72] very close to the village of Hubyn. We stayed there a bit because the Jews of Arinov who recognized us, gathered around us and asked us for all the details of what happened to us, etc. From there we walked to Hubyn in the company of Nachman Shalem[?], he knew the Hebrew language well. When close to the village of Hubyn, we saw from a distance Avraham Burshtak^[73] and another traveling Jew whom I already knew namely, Moshe Bortnik.^[74] [64] We ran to them, because Moshe wanted to ask them to bring us our goods [that were left in Rervitz]. They of course greeted Moshe warmly, but absolutely shared in our great sorrow. We arrived here in Hubyn and were greeted with open arms. This is the journey of two Lamdan brothers from Lutsk to Hubyn.

These are the journeys of two Lamdan brothers from Lutsk to Hubyn.

***

Here we are now in Hubyn. We feel like ourselves here among very close and kind people, and here it is possible to rest a bit. But is this able to quiet the psychic worry which is deep as the sea? …. Is this able to banish thoughts of our parents and our beloved family members and our home? Ha, no! The inner pain is vast and terrible, and not for a moment will I forget my beloved parents and their situation knowing how much they must be worrying about us. I will not forget our home and our possessions, which the Lord knows what remains of them. I will not forget anything [about home], and nothing will console me, even with pure speculation.^[74a]

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Notes

[62] Yiddish for sheet. ↩

[62a] [Translator’s comment:] It appears they left in the morning about 10 or 11 am. This is one of the examples where Yitzhak’s language may sound like he is referring to “proportional hours” Normally the 10th and the 11th hour would be in the afternoon, assuming the calculation was based on sunrise at 6:15. Yitzhak implies they left in the morning and therefore it is not clear whether he is here using the traditional proportional hours or not. See longer discussion and method of calculating proportional hours in note 48a of diary entry for Aug. 5, 1914. [HS] ↩

[63] Lemberg, the Austro-Hungarian name of the city Lvov (Lviv in Ukrainian), capital city of the Lvov district in western Ukraine. In the 14th century it was absorbed in Poland; with the partition of Poland in 1772 it was the capital of Austrian Galicia. At the time these lines were written (the latter part of 1915), it was in the zone of the Austro-Hungarian empire. With the end of WWI, it passed to Poland until WWII, and afterwards it passed to the Soviet sovereignty; with the breakup of the Soviet Union it passed to Ukraine. ↩

[64] The town of Horchov was located in the center between Lemberg and Lusk. From here since the road from Lusk to Horchov and from Lemberg to Horchov was not a straight diagonal road but included turns and bypasses that led to the chance meeting between the young man and Lamdan and his group. [Translator’s comment:] The critical edition assumes the meaning here is that the young man was walking from Lemberg to Horchov, and therefore explaining why Yitzhak would have bumped into him since Horchov is closer to Lemberg than Lutsk. An alternative reading is that the young man was from Lemberg [i.e., he lived there or was from there] but happened to be in Lutsk and was headed like Yitzhak from Lutskto Horchov. [HS] ↩

[64a] [Translator’ comment:] The term, tamrûrîm, in modern Hebrew means "road signs". It appears that Yitzhak is using the term in its biblical meaning to signify “bitterness” as in Jeremiah 31:15. [HS] ↩

[64b] [Translator’s comment:] Yitzhak uses the term zākâ which has the connotation of being fortunate, or lucky or achieving something. He seems to mean it sarcastically here. [HS] ↩

[64c] [Translator’s comment:] Usually Yitzhak is thinking about his father or his parents collectively. This is the first time he specifically mentions his mother. Something about the situation, whether the mud or the huge effort to carry the bundle, makes him think about his mother as if she would be impressed that he is no longer a child and is pulling his weight. [HS] ↩

[65] The village of Irki (now Hirka Polonka, Ukraine) also pronounced Girka Polonka in the district of Volyn, located eight km (5 m) southwest from Lutsk. ↩

[66] Quoting Talmud Babli, Berachot 3a “How great is the pain of the father who exiled his children, and woe to the children who were exiled from their father’s table.” [Translator’s comment:] the Talmudic statement continues “as their pain only adds to that of their father.” The context of this Talmudic passage is interesting for understanding Yitzhak’s state of mind and capacity to leverage classic texts for his own emotional expression. The passage from which Yitzhak lifts the quote in question is a conversation between Rabbi Yosei and Elijah whom he meets coming out of ruins in Jerusalem where he prayed. Elijah is talking about God [the Father] feeling great pain that He exiled his children through the destruction of the Temple and the pain of the children being exiled from their “Father’s” table. Earlier in the passage a heavenly voice says, “Woe to the children, due to whose sins I destroyed My house, burned My Temple, and exiled them among the nations of the world.” He clearly remembered this passage from his studies. He lifted this passage, which had theological nationalist overtones explaining why God exiled his own children by permitting the Temple in Jerusalem to be destroyed and the Jews to be exiled, and turned it around. Now the children are being exiled from their human fathers’ tables by another War, and the human fathers are also being exiled. [HS] ↩

[67] Cherikov (also pronounced Charukiv or Charukov) was in the district of Volyn, located 20 km southwest of Lutsk. ↩

[68] Rervitz (Hryhorovychi) located about three km southwest of the village of Cherikov, about 25 km [15.5 m] southwest of Lutsk and five km [3 m] northeast of the village of Hubyn [Hubyn Pershyi]. ↩

[69] The Russian word “oboz.” A military convoy. Here written in archaic script with the addition of the letter “er golyam” (Ъ) which is not pronounced. ↩

[70] Using Yiddish meaning subordinate or petty officer, a military officer who is not commissioned. ↩

[71] Gendarmarie (Austrian), a federal police force for safekeeping public order in a region of the home front (i.e., military rear). ↩

[71a][Translator’s comment:] See (note 48a) [Aug. 5, 1914] for a discussion of Yitzhak’s language when referring to time. [HS] ↩

[72] The village Arinov (Uhryniv) located about 3 km (1.8 m) southwest of Rervitz, about 28 km (17 m) southwest of Lutsk and two km (1.2 m) northeast of the village of Hubyn. ↩

[73] One of the Burshtak family members, Avraham Burshtak and his sister, and their brother Shmuel Burshtak are mentioned in Diary 1 (Heb. pages 17, 24) [see diary entries for July 15 and July 23, 1914]. Other members of the family from Hubyn are mentioned further on in the coming pages. The origin of the family was an affluent home in Berestechko [should be Hubyn]. See Yosef Weitz, “Family of Mendel Hubyner,” in [the Yizkor Memorial Book for Boremel and Berestechko:] There was a Small Town… p. 208 and following. Members of the Burshtak family made aliyah to the Land [of Israel] and settled in Kefar Yehoshua and Ein Vered. An overview is provided of the Burshtak and Bortnik family and the individuals Yitzhak mentions based on the essays by Yosef Weitz. ↩

[74] Moshe Bortnik, father of Zahava Bortnik, eventually the student and lover of Lamdan. In her possession, he entrusted the first notebook of his diary. The notebook was discovered during the preparation of this edition of his diary. See more about Moshe Bortnik in the writing of Yosef Weitz, ibid, p. 208, note 73. ↩

[74a] [Translator’s comment:] The meaning of the Hebrew is not entirely clear. It appears that Yitzhak is saying that idle speculation won’t console him about the possible survival of his home and possessions. [HS] ↩

***

[October 16, 1915] Saturday night,^[74b] 9th of [the month of] Cheshvan, in the terrible period, in the village of Hubyn [Pershyi]

After our arrival in Hubyn, my feet hurt for several days from all the walking and fatigue and I also began to worry about my neck, because additionally during the walking from Lutsk to Hubyn, I felt that I would “recieve” [i.e., develop] something else from this walking. Day to day my pain grew until it reached the highest level, but thank God, today my pain almost completely subsided.

And here [in Hubyn], materially speaking, we are not lacking in anything. We have enough to eat and with people who are so kind and close to you like brothers, and blots out a bit (just a bit)... our key sorrows and worries... but it is truly possible to forget?... Is it possible? Is it possible to relax at a time when we keep picturing how our parents and beloved family members must be so worried and concerned about us, not knowing where we are? And are they depicting for themselves the worst possible scenes befalling us in their imagination?... The matter is terrible, terrible and our sorrow is deep as the sea.

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Notes

[74b] [Translator’s comment:] Here Yitzhak says he is writing at “night on day 1” and the dating and context fit the traditional interpretation that he was writing on Saturday night, at the end of the Sabbath. See, by contrast, August 21, 1915 and the notes there. [HS] ↩

***

[66]

[October 26, 1915] Tuesday night, 19th of [the month of] Cheshvan, in the terrible period, in the village of Hubyn [Hubyn Pershyi]

I didn't write anything at all in recent days, even though if I sat down to write, I would certainly be able to write ten pages [of material] every day. But some hidden laxity [of mine] or perhaps some other internal reason prevented me from taking up pen in hand to write. Thus I postponed from day to day writing in the diary, [the activity for which] I specifically experience as an internal need and internal aspiration [to do], because my heart, in as much as it is always overflowing its banks and there is no second or even split-second, it seems to me, that the pain and longings, sadness and grief, stop bubbling with confusion inside me. And the source of all the pain and longings and all the sadness and grief does not emanate from my situation and my world, and they [these feelings] don't refer to them [my personal concerns] as was the case earlier... but all of them – share one focus:my dear parents [and] my precious family members, their situation, their lives. My entire soul is now devoted only to them, only to them.

I will stop [writing] meanwhile about the key matter [my family] and turn to [67] a subordinate item – my situation and my life meanwhile here in the village.

I have become a teacher here. Here I am teaching the children of Ch. [Chaim] Burshtak,^[75] M. [Moshe] Bortnik and Yaakov Burshtak. After the fact, I’m totally content with this [work] because truly so much discomfort and regret were caused by going about idle and eating at the expense of others [lit. “to poke out the eyes of others”]... and also the idleness was difficult for my body. In as much as I am devoted to the issue [i.e., Hebrew education] and work, and even though at first blush when they suggested this position to me – I didn’t willingly accept it, but I now admit my mistake and feel that this activity is good for me. [print page 88]

There is work also for my brother Moshe. They handed him the management of the business books and he is occupied with this. There are Hebrew books to read here, and most of the books are those that I haven’t yet read. I read already the interesting “Writings of I. D. [Isaac Dov] Barkovitz.”^[76] “Sefer Ha-Teshurah” [The Book of the Gift] published by Yehudiah,^[77] the story of “Bustenai,”^[78] several booklets from the bibliotheca [library] “Moriah”: Hatunot [Weddings”] – M. Siku [Meir Smilansky],^[79] and “From Stories of the People,”^[80] “Small Drama.”^[81] I also read the long story “Chains” by B. Fredkin,^[82] and now I am reading the story “Generations of One Love,” from M. Smilansky.^[83] Also the men are not so far from my spirit and with the young man, Shmuel Burshtak,^[83a] whom I befriended in brotherhood, because I find him to be a kind young man and friend close in spirit and age.

But what does all this add at all to my life?...

No! Deep in my heart (if it is visible on my face from the outside I don't know how to judge) is hidden my great sadness as large as the sea, the sadness of a son who was exiled from the table of his ancestors [fathers],^[83b] who is sad not about being exiled from the table of his ancestors [fathers], but about his ancestors [fathers] themselves being exiled from their own tables, and their sadness worrying about their children whose location is unknown; [this sadness] is perhaps seven times larger... because who designed the spirit of the parents to be filled with the love as wide as the ocean for their children? But “[one] heart feels [another] heart”^[83c] [hearts are aligned] – says the folk [lit. multitude], day and night, in my walking about and my sitting, in my standing and in my eating, in my drinking, in my speaking, in my thinking in my sleep [–] [69] That terrible sadness will not disappear from my heart and it sucks my youthful lifeforce from me, sucking non-stop… and I try to console myself, I try to find a drop of comfort to put in the cup of bitterness.^[83d] I search but I don’t find, and if it seems to me sometimes that I already found it – I come away empty-handed, my heart’s sorrow is vast like the sea – without consolation. And how can I be comforted knowing that the sadness of my parents there is not lessened?... [print page 89] and the worm of sorrow sucks and sucks, weakening my spirit and eating my emotional strength and terrible worry rules me: I fear that this same terrible sorrow, the same deep worry which sucks my lifeforce without stop, will make me a wounded man my whole life, [I fear] they will irritate my nerves and destroy them completely. They will wipe out my spiritual powers, they will suck my youthful lifeforce from me. What to do? To stop this is not in my power. It is impossible in any case. I want [70] to lighten my sorrow and comfort myself – but nothing works. Therefore a terrible idea occurs to me, that I express all the time: I stand smitten by surprise that I, the polite young man, son of Yehuda Arieh Lamdan, is able to articulate an idea as terrible as this, and it is this: knowing that it is impossible in any case to forget my deep sorrow and terrible worry about the situation of my family now, and in knowing that these [sorrows] are able to maim me emotionally for my entire life, as I said above – I am doing this if it is in my ability under [these] other conditions, this thing that will lighten my sorrow and my grief and it is – drinking alcoholic drinks: wine, schnapps and the like. I know that while drinking this will momentarily obliterate my sorrow and terrible grief that weighs on me their yoke that can’t be lifted... Look, an idea as terrible as this occurs to me and even though I am still far from bringing the idea to fruition, very far [71] but how thoroughly complete is the [wretched] impression [of me] if I can even think and express an idea like this!... The [wretched] impression is complete...

Every single night I dream that I come home, and all of us greet each other joyfully, we find the loss minimal and all our belongings remaining intact in the home, the books – still in the basement, and all of them in excellent condition. Yes, the moments of the dreams are nice but when I wake up and see myself lying on a bed of strangers in the village of Hubyn, and my parents? My beloved parents – I know their sleep is stolen at night worrying about us – then my soul is very embittered, my soul cries bitterly in secret…

At night the day before yesterday when I lay down on my bed before I fell asleep a terrible idea occurred to me, an idea that grabbed me in terror for expressing it. I began to think what would be if, God forbid, we needed to celebrate Passover in a foreign place, not with my parents and family members? Shaking grabbed me in imagining this picture: [72] Our parents’ sadness and our sadness – Woe…terrible! And even though the festival is still very distant, we would need to pass through a long and difficult winter, and the merciful Lord knows what else hangs over our heads, but anyway when this thought occurs to me, terror and shaking attack me, and all of me – [is] sadness and pain.

The hour is late at night. All the members of Yehezkel Burshtak’s^[84] home are asleep already, and only I alone sit and write my entry by the light of candle, and the house is quiet. Only the striking of the clock is heard and the scratch of my pencil on the pages of the diary and the agitation, the agitation of sorrow and grief in my heart is inestimable. I am finishing my entry and going to sleep. Not to sleep initially, to think thoughts of awful sorrow and afterwards to dream dreams that irritate my terribly angry sorrow

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Notes

[75] In the continuation of the diary (Heb. page 98 [Nov. 2, 1915]) the widow of Chaim Burshtak is mentioned, apparently Mrs. Haya Burshtak (Heb. page 202 [March 7, 1917]). ↩

[76] The writings of I. D. [Isaac Dov] Barkovitz – Kraków edition 5670 / 1910 (printing Yosef Fisher) or Odessa edition 5670 / 1910 (Moriah publishing house) from the collection “Stories from [Isaac Dov] Barkovitz.” ↩

[77] The Book of the Gift: An illustrated anthology for youth. Warsaw: Sifrut, 5672 / 1911 (no name of editor). ↩

[78] Meir Marcus Lehmann, “Bustenai: a Story from the Days of the Geonim” (translated from the periodical Der Israelit by Shmuel Yosef Fuenn), Vilna (printing of Shmuel Yosef Fuenn, A. Tz. [Avraham Tzvi] Rosencrantz and Menachem Mendel Schriftsetzer 5641 / 1881). [Translator’s comment:] Bustenai ben Hanina was the name of the Exilarch who lived in the 7th century and who was the subject of miraculous stories. [HS] ↩

[79] Meir Siku [Meir Smilansky], Weddings: Two Stories (“The Marriage Ceremony,” “The Night of the Wedding”). Odessa: Moriah 5670 / 1910 (published in the series “Bibliotheca Moriah for Young People and the People.” Collection 1:17). ↩

[80] From Stories of the People [Hayim Nachman Bialik, “Short Friday,” Sholem Aleichem, “Witchcraft”] Odessa: Moriah 5670 /1910 (published in the series “Bibliotheca Moriah for Young People and the People.” Collection 1:25). ↩

[81] Mordechai Ben-Ami, A Little Drama (translated by Bar-Tobia [Shraga Feybel Frankel]), Odessa: Moriah, 5760 [1910] (published in the series “Bibliotheca Moriah for Young People and the People.” Collection 1:22). ↩

[82] Ben Tzion Fredkin, The Chains: A Story in Two Parts. Warsaw: Toshia, 5672 (1911). ↩

[83] Moshe Smilansky, The Story of One Love, Warsaw: Sifrut, 5671 (1910). ↩

[83a] Shmuel Burshtak was the young man who tried to make aliyah but whose funding was retracted by his sponsors at the last minute. Yitzhak learned that story from Avraham Weitz and subsequently wrote him a letter of encouragement. See July 19th and July 23rd 1914. ↩

[83b] [Translator’s comment:] This whole paragraph is an allusion to a passage in Talmud Babli, Berachot 3a which Yitzhak quoted before on Oct. 13, 1915 (see discussion in note 66). [HS] ↩

[83c] [Translator’s comment:] The exact meaning of the popular idiom, “heart feels heart” here is not entirely clear. The expression may be a calque which Yitzhak picked up from Russian or Yiddish or may have been circulating in Hebrew in the period. I believe Yitzhak is referring conceptually to heart felt empathy where one can feel what another is experiences through sharing a similar experience. He appears to be commenting on the nature and origin of a parent’s intense love for their children. Therefore, when a parent doesn’t know where his [or her] children, a vast sadness is felt. [HS] ↩

[83d] [Translator’s comment:] see Yitzhak’s entry on Sept. 21, 1915 – where he refers to cup of sorrow. [HS] ↩

[84] Yehezkiel Burshtak, one of the Burshtak family, mentioned in this diary [notebook 2, father of Shmuel Burshtak. See note 73.] ↩

***

[73]

[October 27, 1915] Wednesday night, 20th of [the month of] Marcheshvan,^[84a] in the terrible period, in the village of Hubyn [Pershyi]

I am lodging at the home of Shlomo Burshtak^[85] because they whitewashed Yehezkel's home today [where I was previously staying], and it is cold to sleep there. Now while the members of his household are already asleep, I have seated myself at the table and am writing down some of my innermost thoughts.

Earlier, Avraham Burshtak^[85a] entered and called us outside, to show us a long streak across the sky. The streak lay at the edge of a bank of black clouds and on the other side clear skies skies – this is a sign of peace, of peace – for the house and afterwards for everyone. In my heart the secret hope and anxiety crystallized that perhaps, perhaps, peace will really arrive when we had not expected it at all. Yikes, if only the good God already had pity on all wretched human beings and especially the Hebrew people afflicted more than others... Yikes, if only the end of the terrible bloodshed arrived already sullied the heavens of the world with a disgraceful stain.

Perhaps, perhaps, peace will bring a bit of healing to thousands, to the tens of thousands of broken hearts, to the shattered and wretched souls, that have suffered beneath the terrible lash of war.

I look with envy at the Jews of Hubyn, who are able meantime to be called “fortunate” having emerged safely from the terrible storm [74] that passed over them. And how unbearable for me when I sometimes hear them complain from time to time about some matter of greater or lesser importance when they know many thousands of souls have been reduced to misery and are left utterly destitute while they are well-fed and live lives of ease – and still they dare to complain. Oh, what wicked people! ...–

As one of the community of “sufferers” – I keenly feel the injustice of complaints such as these – – – and my soul weeps secretly inside^[85b] ... not when thinking about myself but about my dear parents [print page 91] ... my soul mourns over their situation my soul mourns and is torn to pieces... Oh, my God! Have mercy on on the suffering of Your people! – – –

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Notes

[84a] [Translator’s comment:] Marcheshvan is an alternative name for the month of Cheshvan, the 2nd month of the Jewish civil calendar (and 8th month of the ecclesiastical calendar). In his previous entries, Yitzhak called the month Cheshvan. Here he shifts to “Marcheshvan” and perhaps does so to pick up on the association of “Mar” with bitterness, a term he has used in his previous diary entry to describe the bitterness in his heart. [HS] ↩

[85] Brother of Yehezkel Burshtak. Lamdan stayed periodically in these two homes. [Translator’s comment: Yitzhak was sleeping at Yehezkel Burshtak’s home a day earlier. [HS] ↩

[85a] [Translator’s comment] Avraham Burshtak was the son of Yehezkel Burshtak and nephew of Shlomo Burshtak. Avraham and his sister stayed with the Lamdan family before the War (see July 23, 1914) and was the brother of Shmuel Burshtak, the young man Yitzhak identified as a friend and fellow Zionist the day before (see Oct. 26, 1915). Shmuel was the young man whose funding to make aliyah was withdrawn by his town sponsors a year earlier (see July 19, 1914). See also note [73]. [HS] ↩

[85b] [Translator’s comment:] The words “my soul weeps secretly inside” echo the words of God in Jeremiah 13:17 who anticipates having to destroy the people of Israel for its sins. [HS]

***

November 1915

[November 2, 1915] Tuesday night,^[85c] 27th [25th]^[85d] of [the month of] Marcheshvan, 5676, in the terrible period, in the village of Hubyn [Pershyi]

I am writing less in my diary even though I have so much to write. If I was constantly writing down and capturing everything seething within my heart, all my painful longings for my parents (ʾăbôtay)^[85e] and my dear family members, the pain of my grief and sadness about our situation and especially about the present tragic situation torn away as we are from our parents (hôrîm), their sadness definitely great and vast as the sea not knowing where we are. Oh, my heart is torn to pieces when I begin to think deeply about the matter [75] at night; at night when I retire to my bed, I call up before me, [or more correctly], I do not call them up; the images arise on their own, the appearance of my mother – how sleep eludes her at night, tossing from side to side and groaning and wondering: “my children, my dear children where are they now?” I picture dear Father’s image for myself. The wrinkles of sadness and grief that no doubt multiplied greatly on his kindly face. I see him sitting silent and motionless and in his heart – a sea of grief. The property is lost, everything is lost, but he is not alone in that. So be it, what can be done? “But the children, the children where are they? Where are they wandering now? Are they still alive?” In my mind’s eye, I see my dear sisters, Malcah, Hansa, Riba, and Heni, sitting together at twilight in the gloom, sitting and groaning over the bitter fate in which we find ourselves and whispering to one another: “Yikes, who knows where Moshe and Itzi [Yitzhak]^[86] are? Oh, how foolish allowing ourselves to be torn from one another.” More and more images like this rise before me, and my soul, oh, my soul must be stronger than iron if it doesn’t burst from the pain when these images rise before me. I realize more and more how great the distance between us and them, and who knows, oh, who knows when we will meet. I feel this – and my heart is torn to pieces. If my eyes had not become like barren rock,^[87] during this time, I would pour out a flood of water corresponding to the terrible weeping of my heart...

[76] Even for a moment my heart won’t be still. Not even for a moment will I have rest from my sorrow and severe turmoil. I won’t find even the smallest drop of comfort for my great sorrow. I know that were I together with my beloved parents and all the members of my family – then my troubles would “find a place for themselves” – as people commonly say. But since I am torn from them, I know that my sadness and grief about this won’t subside until I see them. Nothing can calm my spirit. Nothing. [print page 92] Everything, everything is completely devoid of interest to me. In my case, all my constant ideas, reflections, and thoughts revolve around a single point and that is: my beloved parents (ʾăbôtay), and I can know no calm or comfort. O, my dear parents (ʾăbôtay) , if only I could let you know that we are alive, eating our fill, sleeping in good beds and are healthy, if I could let you know about this – then I could be sure that both you and I would calm down a little! But how is this possible? How is it possible to send you a letter? Oh! I would give up everything I hold dear if I knew it was possible to notify you of our fate.

I go about constantly with such thoughts and this is what I ponder day and night, in lying down and in rising up^[87a] while eating and drinking, [and] / while speaking.

Yes, nothing is able to still my emotions storming from pain and sadness. I would nevertheless like to immerse myself in creative work, to write some literary work. Although I know [77] that even this will not quiet my anguished mind in the least, still I would nevertheless find a certain literary satisfaction in it, because now I feel within myself a certain inclination towards creative work, and unexpectedly now, at a time when life is so difficult and terrible, when my heart feels so much pain and sorrow, and unexpectantly when my present life is so difficult, I long to soar into more beautiful worlds, into a life more varied and exalted, which is the historic life of our people, its life when it dwelled on its land. Therefore I particularly want to work on compositions drawn from the historical days of our people. I am thinking now of starting with a poem, “Death of Joab,” which I ponder in writing this poem.^[88]

I already arranged all my papers in a box of a particular sideboard that Devorah, the wife of Yehezkel Burshtak, kindly set aside especially for me. With a bitter heart and depressed spirit, I gaze on the “surviving-remnant”^[88a] of mine and I remember a time that all my papers lay in a box everyone knew as "my box," and each and every single day when I would enter the bedroom we called “Mother’s room,” I would put the box on the chair and sit on a second chair at the table, take my papers from the box, and sit writing and reading. But now I am displaced in a foreign location and even my spiritual creations are together with me, as with me, so with them, I am in a foreign place^[88b] and so are they.

At the recollection of all this, my soul mourns and weeps silently. [78] I remember the spacious places where I used to sit at my writing table, a special inkwell, a special pointer^[88c] and pen, a good blotting material [for the ink] and writing paper, - How much paper I had! And now I need to scrimp on every scrap of blotting paper and guard them like the pupil of the eye. And paper, where will I get any when I need it? But, anyway, if only this was the least of my worries. The key thing is the single point around which my sorrow, grief and thinking revolve...

Intially, I thought my entry was already finished, but an hour later as I was sitting there writing, I wrote a small poem, “In a Foreign Place,"^[89] which expresses something of my heartache. And, of course, I must record this in my diary. In this poem of mine, I express the fact that my heart aches no longer for^[89a] all the other things dear to me, like the town and other similar things. Now I long only for Father and Mother, and my soul, which yearns and longs for them, is given over to them. The poem is short, 3 stanzas and it ends as follows:

And night, night a time I wet (artiva) }^[89b]
the pillow of my bed, with my tears (bedimotai) }
about one matter only do I cry (evkaya)
because I am far away from my parents (meavotai)^[89c]

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Notes

[85c] [Translator’s comment:] If Yitzhak intended “night of day 4” to mean Tuesday night, as in traditional Jewish concepts, then he got the date wrong. Tuesday night began the 26th of Marcheshvan, not the 25th as the critical edition indicates. Alternatively, if he was using civil concepts where “night of day 4” means Wednesday night, then the date is correct as Yitzhak has it (the 27th of Marcheshvan). See earlier discussions in Notebook 1, note 50a, note 57a, and this notebook, note 19a. [HS] ↩

[85d] Probably the 26th of Marcheshvan, not the 25th for reasons given in the previous note. ↩

[85e] [Translator’s comment:] This is a good example where Yitzhak uses the Hebrew word for ancestors/ fathers (ʾăbôtay) interchangeably at times with the word for parents (hôrîm). In this sentence he switches from the former to the latter. [HS] ↩

[86] Itzi is the name of endearment of Yitzhak Lamdan. Not only his family called him by this nickname in his youth. See for example, Moshe Tamari, “In His Presence in Mlynov,” Gilyanot 31:12 (5715) [1954-55], pp. 290-93. Translated by Howard I. Schwartz, “In the Presence of Yitzhak Lamdan in Mlynov,” by Moshe Tamari. In Mlynov-Muravica Memorial Book, pp. 28-33. ↩

[87] Quoting Ezekiel 24:7, For the blood she shed is still in her; She set it upon a bare rock; She did not pour it out on the ground. To cover it with earth. [Translator’s comment:] The context here is the destruction of Jerusalem. [HS] ↩

[87a] [Translator’s comment:] It is possible that Yitzhak is paradoxically alluding to the prayer called the Shema [Hear O’Israel] when he writes that he is thinking obsessively about notifying his parents “when lying down and when rising up.” The Shema prayer, which is the centerpiece of morning and evening prayers, has similar language. “You should love the Lord your God with all your heart, your soul and your might. And these words…talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise up...” Instead of thinking about loving the Lord, Yitzhak is thinking about how to get in touch with his parents. [HS] ↩

[88] The poem was not published and is mentioned also in the continuation p. 121 [Hebrew] [January 7, 1916] [Translator’s comment:] The biblical character named Joab is an interesting subject for a poem, particularly at this moment when Yitzhak is in emotional turmoil and sits down to write his first poem since being displaced from his hometown. Joab was a complicated biblical figure, a commander for King David’s army and a nephew of King David. After King David's son, Absalom, fomented a rebellion, Joab killed Absalom. Joab also murdered two innocent military commanders (Abner and Amasa) [II Samuel 3:27 and 20:9-12) and later committed treason by supporting the claim of David’s son, Adonijah, to the throne rather than David’s son, Solomon (1 Kings 1:7 and 2). On his deathbed, David instructed Solomon to have Joab put to death, presumably for his past actions and for his threat to the thone. Joab fled to the desert and was murdered at the instructions of King Solomon while claiming sanctuary and holding the horns of the altar in the Tabernacle (1 Kings 2). [HS] ↩

[88a] [Translator’s comment:] Using language (sh'erit ha-pletah) (שְׁאֵרִ֥ית הַפְּלֵטָ֖ה) from 1 Chronicles 4:43 to describe the destruction of the last surviving Amalekites, Yitzhak describes his papers as the only remnant of his former possessions. The same expression later was adopted after WWII to describe the survivors of the Holocaust. [HS] ↩

[88b] [Translator’s comment:] See note 36a for a discussion of my translation of the term "nēkār" and its meanings as a "foreign place" and/or "foreign country." [HS] ↩

[88c] [Translator’s comment:] It appears Yitzhak used a pointer, like one used to read Torah in the synagogue, to follow along in reading and studying sacred texts while he was sitting at his table. He does imply in this entry that he studied as well as wrote at his table. [HS] ↩

[89] Apart from these lines and introductory verses on [Heb.] p. 110 and p. 121 [i.e., Dec. 18, 1915 and Jan. 7, 1916], this poem didn’t survive and is mentioned also on [Heb.] p. 97, [Nov. 16, 1915]. [Translator's comment]: Yitzhak also mentions working on this poem on Dec. 11th. The title of the poem can mean either "In a Foreign Place” or “In a Foreign Country.” In Hubyn, Yitzhak is now living under Astro-Hungarian rule. See also note 36a [Sept. 8, 1915] on my translation of the word nēkār, which can mean a "foreign place" or a "foreign country." ↩

[89a] [Translator’s comment:] There is a grammatical period in the Hebrew text which I ignored because it appears that the period actually interrupts the flow of the language and intent. [HS] ↩

[89b] [Translator’s comment:] In Hebrew, the rhyming verses are laid out horizontally on the same line as each other, but the poem has to be read vertically from top line to bottom line. I reorganized it in English to make the poem more readable and understandable.[HS] ↩

[89c] [Translator’s comment:] Yitzhak sometimes uses the biblical term אבות (ʾbwt) which means "Fathers" somewhat interchangeably with the term for parents, as in this instance. As a result, the poem probably has two levels of meaning. On one level, he is in a foreign country (under Austro-Hungarian control) and far away from his parents. But on another level, he is in a foreign country (diaspora) and far away from his ancestors in the Land of Israel. [HS] ↩

***

[November 12, 1915] Friday morning, 5th of [the month of] Kislev, ^[90] 5676, in the terrible period, in the village of Hubyn [Pershyi]

I had not intended to write my present entry this morning (at an hour when I am not accustomed to “write”) And, of course, since today is the eve of Sabbath, I [normally] would not have written in the diary at all today, for lack of time. But then something [79] came to mind that compelled me to sit down now and write this entry. I spent the entire night at Shlomo Burshtak’s because Mr. Shlomo Milman from Berestetchka was staying at Yehezkel’s. Then as I lay on my bed this morning and brooding sadly about home, my parents our bitter situation in general, following nighttime dreams that had saddened my spirit – as I lay there reflecting, I remembered that today, the 5th of Kislev, is my birthday, because today I turn 18 years old.^[91] Great sadness attacked me, intense grief settled into my heart. When I was in my parents’ quiet and serene home – I did not forget this [i.e., my birthday]. My thoughts were pure, and my mind clear, and my heart had not become so dulled from sadness and pain that I forgot, for example, my birthday. Now I wander and I am in a foreign land, with no home, far from my parents (ʾăbôtay) who are dear to me as my own soul, far from everything sacred to me, from all my aspirations, and all that my heart conceived and pondered over [print page 94] the years. The heart is dulled from pain and grief, the mind is so overwhelmed by all the grief-filled thoughts that I even forgot my birthday. But then suddenly I remembered it, and as I lay there on a strange bed. My heart wept within, weeping a bitter cry in silence. Well then, this is how I turned eighteen.

I would like to dedicate a few words to this day [in my diary], to express some of the feelings in my heart on this day, especially now during this exceptional and difficult time, during this terrible period, but I am doubtful if I will be able to. My nerves are so agitated, my thoughts are so disorganized, they are so confused – and because of this, it will be difficult for me at this moment to organize the whole train of my thoughts. Today, I turned eighteen. I have now truly entered the stage of adulthood. The days of youth passed by already and are no more. I recall the beautiful words of our poet Bialik:

Today, I completed 18 years. In truth, I already reached the outer boundary of adolescence. The days of teenagers passed already and are gone. I am reminded of the suitable words of our poet Bialik:

“And the days of youth, good boy,
they will fly away quickly like a bird flying”…^[92]

Gone, flown away, are the days of youth that at first I considered perhaps bad and lacking substance. But now as I wander in a foreign place, at a time that the present situation troubles us so much – I feel (how happy, serene, calm and good) were the days of my youth in my beloved parents’ home … I now feel that only then was my life full of interest, full of lofty aspirations, beautiful dreams, and shining hopes. I was serene and content and what did I lack at Father’s table? I ate and drank my fill. And I knew only the quiet serene life of sitting– sitting beside the box of my papers in Mother’s room^[92a] and to write or stand by the full bookcase, reflecting and reading from the books in our large library. What did I lack then? Yikes. Only now do I feel the sweet taste and goodness of those happy days. Only now do I feel, only now do I perceive, why “wisdom always comes after years” – as the [80] masses say. Why do people perceive the sweetness of the past only in the bitter present ? And \ when that same sweet past was itself the present, did they likewise consider it a bitter present? [Yes!]…Why is this? But this is the nature of things, and it can’t be changed: the present time is always displeasing and unsatisfying and the past is always good, even though at first when it was still the present, it was considered bad... and so it is now with me as well...

For example, a boy doesn’t realize how happy the life of childhood is, when he is carefree, and his childhood mind is clear, and his whole being remains untainted by the foulness of life, which the boy hasn’t yet experienced and instead he looks with envy at the “grown-ups” since everything is just for them. And he also wishes to be a grown-up, and to deal with all the important matters, so to speak. But when the boy becomes a man and enters into the stormy period of life, swept away with by current of its waves, and remembers the days of his childhood, only then will he realize how happy and good those days were, so serene, calm and free from fear of life’s bitterness… [print page 95] Yes this is a law of nature that will not change!...

Yes, I now keenly feel the good days that I had in my peaceful town in the home of my parents, I feel them keenly, and my heart – ah, my heart weeps within, crying without ceasing, weeping because those good days have already passed, passed away forever – and are no more. Against my will I am swept along with the stormy current of life that poured upon us, all their bitterness, all their fury and their venom...

I turned 18 years old. But I will not speak now about my very poor spiritual condition arising from my inadequate knowledge as an eighteen-year-old young person. Still without sufficient Hebrew knowledge, I still have a great deal to learn in order to know the teachings (Torah) of Judaism – so much more: Talmud, Tanakh [the Hebrew Bible], literature – I must immerse myself much more deeply in this sea. My general knowledge is sadly almost non-existent, etc. etc., but I will not speak about this now. All this needs to be set aside, meanwhile, due to the terrible “time of emergency” that we now find ourselves in, a time brought about not by any fault of ours, but by bitter reality. Besides, it is would be very egotistical now to immerse oneself in “personal matters” like these, at a time when the world at large, and our own world in particular, is drowning in blood and fire and columns of smoke...^[92a] At this moment, it is not possible to sit at ease to acquire knowledge, even for a man who sits quietly in his own home… in particular, for people like me who have been exiled from the table of their fathers and who wander crushed and broken in a foreign land...

No. One shouldn’t speak about this now. It is not possible.

But I need to pray while the glowing ember in my heart has not yet been completely extinguished, and the splendor of my youth hasn’t completely lost its glow. And even if I am crushed and broken, I still have many lofty aspirations beneath the ash heap of this polluted life, glowing sparks still whisper and blaze. [81] I don’t need to complain now about what I don’t have, but rather I need to be satisfied with what I do have… because who knows perhaps, God forbid, days will come that make this present, bitter and terrible as it is, will have become for me a sweet past – – – –

I turned eighteen today. And now during this terrible period, when the general calamity is so very awful, what am I that I should complain so much? After all, am I not but a tiny grain in the sea of our Jewish lives? (I speak only about our Jewish world because my heart is full of hatred and vengeance for humanity which is cruel to us). But even so, why does my heart weep so much inside me? What is this heavy sadness that attacks me? I am eighteen years old now, in a foreign land, in a terrible period, far from my parents (ʾăbôtay), stuck in a clear situation, in a storm that they started and which is still going and the good Lord knows if it will continue longer? And in truth I must pray that the little bit preserved still inside me will not be lost in the present storm, and refrain from complaining so much about what I do not have. But what can I do? The heart does what it does and weeps, secretly weeps...

Beloved Father and Mother! I know, I feel your great sadness. I know that you lose sleep at night, I know that your food is unpalatable due to your worry about your sons who are far away [print page 96] from you and you don’t know where they are. I know and sense this for after all I am your son... My beloved parents (ʾăbôtay)! Your son turned eighteen today. Who knows? Perhaps you too cast a glance at a page of the “calendar” and you saw the 5th of Kislev and you also remembered, today is my birthday, and you indeed groaned bitterly wondering: Who knows where our son is now? Ah! If only I could reassure you that I am alive and healthy and lack nothing here, then my heart would ache and grieve only over your fate which is unknown to me. I dismissed everything else; all my concerns – are only about you. Bless me from a distance, my dear parents and dear sisters, bless me on the day of my birth. I am eighteen years old today. I truly cross now the threshold into adulthood, into a new phase, bless me! And know that the heart of a loving son will beat for you in a foreign land, and will weep bitterly in secret, and that my entire being will anxiously await the day we are together again – – –

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Notes

[90] [The date is] emphasized with a line under it, and as evident in the continuation it emphasized that it the birthday of Lamdan. ↩

[91] Yitzhak Lamdan’s birthday was the 5th of Kislev 5658 (Nov. 30, 1897) and not the 5th of Kislev 5660 (Nov. 7, 1899) as stated in several places. For example, at the bottom of profile drawing by Nachum Gutman, on the side of the frontpiece of the edition of his collected poems: Collected Poems of Yitzhak Lamdan, with an introduction from Simon Halkin, Jerusalem: Mosad Bialik, 1973, and also the entry “Lamdan, Yitzhak” Getzel Kressel, Lexicon of Hebrew Literature in the Recent Generations, vol. 2. Merhavia: Workers’ library and Kibbutz Hartzi 5727 [1966-67], p. 285. Lamdan began his Diary 1 when he was 16 and ½ years old when he was still trying to make aliyah to [the Land of] Israel and seeking a teaching position. The declaration that his age was younger than his actual age was intended to exempt him from the obligation of military conscription. ↩

[92] From the poem of Bialik, “This Evening” (written in 1895 and published in the 1901 edition). See Hayyim Nachman Bialik: The Poems (editor Avner Holtzman), Or Yehuda: Dvir, 5765 [2004-05], p. 70. ↩

[92a] [Translator’s comment:] A bedroom where Yitzhak’s box of papers was stored in a box was called “Mother’s room,” as he indicated in his prior entry from Nov. 2, 1915. [HS] ↩

[92b] [Translator’s comment:] Yitzhak here quotes from the prophet Joel 3:3 “Before the great and terrible day of God comes, I will set portents in the sky and on earth: Blood and fire and pillars of smoke.” ↩

***

[November 16, 1915] Tuesday night, 10th of [the month of] Kislev, 5676, in the terrible period, in the village of Hubyn [Pershyi]

How terrible is the sadness that now weighs on my heart! How awful the grief which sucks [thus] in my innermost being. There is no rest, no comfort. Lord of the Universe, why do you permit your world to be debased this way?!

On Sunday this week, Devorah, the wife of Mr. Yehezkel Burshtak, traveled to see her brother who had arrived.^[93] We gave her two postcards, thinking that no doubt it would be possible, through her brother, for our postcards to reach our beloved parents. [82]

And now Devorah has already arrived back. She returned to us one of the postcards, the one written in Russian, while the other may possibly reach its intended recipient, but there is obviously great uncertainty in the matter. A terrible sorrow seized me because of this. Throughout these past few days, I entertained the hope that possibly, sooner or later, our beloved parents and family members would be informed of our fate, etc. But now this hope has almost completely vanished. And a deep sadness presses on my heart. When Devorah arrived, I didn’t want to ask her about the postcards, out of trembling fear. Perhaps the postcards had not been sent? And I didn’t want to know the outcome immediately. But Dvorah herself went ahead and told us.

A week or two ago, a hopeful rumor circulated that perhaps peace was drawing near, and the flutter of joy passed through every living creature. It seemed that any moment now the whole world will be freed from the terrible upheaval raging within it, soon the terrible storm that was destroying and laying waste to everything in its path will cease, soon, soon [print page 97] the terrible storm will leave, the terrible curse poured out over all the world will depart. But now, apparently, this was nothing but a vain hope. No longer does one hear of peace drawing near; no longer does one sense that the quieting of the storm is near. A heavy sadness tightly grips the heart when one realizes the possibility that this terrible War will continue on and on. A heavy despair descends into your soul. And your heart fears it will burst apart from pain. For terrible, terrible are the consequences that war may bring if it continues. It will continue to destroy, kill, devastate, separate, shatter, crush, cut down, annihilate and demolish without end. And why won’t the merciful God have pity on this wretched world? Woe, how terrible!

Here I now sit in the room, and soon I will go up to sleep in a warm bed, and I, though one of who suffer, am still counted among “the fortunate ones.” A strong wind, a snowstorm, is raging now outside, and how many thousands and tens of thousands of people are suffering now from this storm under the vault of heavens! And why? For what? Why did they end the lives of tens of thousands of souls who yearned for life? Have they not ended the lives of thousands of people who lived in tranquility and in peace? Why? How do they still dare to say that our age is an age of culture, of civilization?^[93a] How dare they? If some man now says something like this to me, I’ll spit in his face, I’ll spit in his face with contempt that such bad faith this still nests in his heart. No! People who are so savage who don’t realize that even with the development of Culture in the world, would they not be subject to bloodshed like this that spreads and expands without stopping? [Of course!] Where is the compassion in the human heart? How are they silent? Why don’t they awaken and do something for the sake of establishing peace?

Lord of the Universe, look down from the heavens and see how desolate is the world which You created — destroyed, drenched in blood of people whose hearts still yearn for life – for life and for work. Look up Your world which has become perverse and withered – take pity on it, and shine Your light on it, send out the rays of Your name and spread the light of peace over everything. Because there is no strength to endure it! [83] And especially in these difficult days, at a moment when my emotional state is so very terrible, surprisingly now the creative muse awakened within me for my poem, “In a Foreign Place,”^[93b] which I mentioned in previous entries. I added a second part portraying my situation now— how life crushed and devastated me at a time when I am still young and full of youthful vigor. The poem “Elegy” which I already wrote in my earlier notebook of poems, I put now in this notebook with light corrections, because the words of the poem are now fitting my situation. But all these are of secondary importance to my writing the poem, “Death of Joab,”^[94] But all these are of secondary importance to my writing the poem, “Death of Joab,”^[94a] which I am currently working on. If only I might bring it to fruition for this is my one consolation in my present bitter life.

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Notes

[93] She traveled to Berestechka [Berestechko] the seat of the Burtshak family. See “There was a Small Town,” op. cit., p. 208 [see Diary 1, note 24]. ↩

[93a] [Translator’s comment:] Yitzhak is criticizing the rhetoric that portrayed the 20th century as an epoch of culture, civilization, advancement and progress. Look around this is not an era of culture, he insists. He may also be responding to the rhetoric in which Germany viewed itself as the carrier of “kultur” (spiritual depth, deep cultural achievement) and the allies framed the war as defense of civilization. As a young Zionist, he would have been suspicious of all of this rhetoric, on both sides. Compare his ideas here to his similar diary entry shortly after the War first breaks out on Aug. 16, 1914. [HS] ↩

[93b] [Translator’s comment:] See Nov. 2, 1915, for Yitzhak’s first mention of the poem, “In a Foreign Place” where he quotes its concluding lines. Yitzhak also mentions working on this poem on Dec. 11, 1915. See also note 36a on Yitzhak’s use of the term (nēkār) to mean a foreign place or a foreign country. [HS]

[94] The poem “Elegy” didn’t survive as well as the two notebooks of poems that are mentioned here. [HS] ↩

[94a] [Translator’s comment:] Yitzhak mentions writing the poem “Death of Joab,” on Nov. 2, 1915. See note 88 there for a discussion. [HS] ↩

***

[November 20, 1915] Saturday night [after the Sabbath ends], 13th [14th]^[94b] of [the month of] Kislev, 5676, in the terrible period, in the village of Hubyn [Pershyi]

We’ve been sleeping for a while^[94c] here at the home of Yehezkel Burshtak. I alone sit by myself at the table and by the light of an oil lamp, I am writing this present entry.

I sit and ponder: with what should I start my entry? The question is excellent. Yes, I ponder and think so much. Yes, there are so many thoughts troubling my brain nonstop and now as I sit and want to circumscribe a bit the worries and passing thoughts – I can’t find get a handle on it (literally “can’t find my hands and feet”). If I was able to document all my worries and passing thoughts in full detail – the pages of my diary would include lofty and nice entries with no end, but no, this is a something impossible. And this was already known earlier [as expressed in the poem] “Shameful Expressions.”^[94d]

Everyone indicates that my appearance has improved very much since the day I arrived here. Indeed, I also feel this about myself. Because my appetite for food and drink increased a lot, and thank God, I find both of them widely available here – thus my appearance indeed improved. But it is easier for a stranger to err and think that since my appearance improved, that my spiritual situation is also good.. Ha, the stranger doesn’t understand that the inner state is much, much different than the external state. Others can’t sense that a worm of worry and sadness never ceases to gnaw and suck at my heart … because I have not a moment of rest, not during the day and not at night, when terrible grief troubles my insides. My heart is full of all kinds of worries: worry for our home, our belongings that were lost, for our beloved parents about whose wellbeing and situation now I don’t know? Their terrible sadness worrying about us, [worry] about life’s particulars which in their worldliness perhaps it is inappropriate for me to complain about, but their spiritual ones hurt and depress greatly [namely]… [worry] about my unfortunate people [the Jews] who suffer now so much, about our Zionist movement which is almost completely destroyed, about our work in the Land of Israel which [only] the good Lord knows whether it still possesses a spark of life… In a few words: personal worries and general worries join together in me as one terrible worry constantly saddening my heart and depressing it.

[84] Yes, I it is possible for others to easily err that my improved appearance implies the same of my emotional state, but it is otherwise, truly otherwise…

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Notes

[94b] [Translator’s comment:] This is an example where Yitzhak either got the date wrong as the critical edition implies, or he was thinking of Saturday night (“motzei shabbat”) as a continuation of the earlier Sabbath day, meaning the 13th of Kislev. If so, he either saw Saturday night as experientially and religiously "basking in the glow of the Sabbath," or was thinking in civil calendar concepts. Because Yitzhak does this fairly consistently on Saturday nights, the more likely explanation is that, for experiential and religious reasons, he is treating “motzei Shabbat” as still belonging to the lingering sacred Sabbath and thus retaining the same date as the Sabbath day, even though the Jewish calendar date has technically changed at sunset. See earlier discussions in Diary 1 [Aug. 8, 1914], note 50a, and [Aug. 16, 1914], note 57a, and this Diary 2 (Aug. 21, 1915), note 19a [HS] ↩

[94c] [Translator’s comment:] Yitzhak and his brother were staying with Yehezkel Burshtak already by Oct. 26 but stayed at the home of Yehezkel’s brother, Shlomo Burshtak, on October 27 when Yehezkel’s home was being whitewashed. They are back at Yehezkel’s home. By Nov. 2nd at the latest they are back at Yehezkel’s home and his wife, Devorah, has given Yitzhak a box and place to store his papers. [HS] ↩

[94d] [Translator’s comment:] The words in quotes appear to be the name of a poem Yitzhak wrote. Since the poem did not survive, the context is not self-evident and the name of the poem in Hebrew is thus ambiguous. It could also mean “Ropes or Strands of Expression.” [HS] ↩

***

[November 23, 1915] Tuesday night, 17th of [the month of] Kislev, 5675,^[94e] in the terrible period, in the village of Hubyn [Pershyi]

I have just come from the home of the widow Chaya Burshtak.^[94f] We sat together, a whole group of us at Etke’s house.^[95] The circumstances were somewhat cheerful. The mood was somewhat cheerful. They were playing cards, reading and more.. To outward appearances, [print page 99] I participated in everything, but partly with disdain, and partly with envy, I watched those gathered there who could now live in relative quiet after the scourge of war passed them by. And while I sat there that way and played cards etc. – I thought to myself: Here I am sitting here in the warmth with a cheerful countenance, as it were – and there far away sit my parents and beloved family members, their eyes weeping and their hearts aching for their sons whom they have lost and do not know what became of them – something like a hidden pressure squeezed my heart tightly, something like a hidden anger at myself overwhelmed me for showing myself as cheerful and at myself for enjoying the pleasurable moment, even if only outwardly, even if only seemingly … a feeling of this sort suffused my downcast heart.

One day chases another, one week after another, and the terrible storm still rages, still growls and seethes without stop, and all the myriad of miserable people sit by themselves, each withdrawing into his own corner, waiting and hoping; his heart cries out bitterly and is torn to pieces, his yearning eyes look expectantly in every direction: When will the end come?... But the end will not come, the end is far, far away. Oh, Lord of the Universe – when already will it finally be visible to the eyes? When already will the wretched people finally be pitied?...

I was still sitting and preparing to continue my entry when Yehezkel arrived from Berestetchka [Berestechko] and followed by the son of Hirsh Milman^[96] who was staying with him and forced me to go spend the night at Etke’s. And already I am sitting here and writing my words.

At first, I intended to write about the matters that follow in the next section, but I just heard a rumor and I will write about it first: Abraham Burshtak was also in Berestechka and this is what he recounts: that eight townspeople from Berestechka^[97] who fled initially to Russia and have now returned to Berestechka after they cleared a road for themselves with much labor, obviously, and they report that terrible famine rules there. Prices are terribly high and nothing can be obtained because all the roads are cut off. Thousands of refugees have already died from much extreme poverty and hardship. Shaking gripped me upon hearing this rumor. I who always thought that if only my beloved parents made it safely to Baranovka [Baranivka, Ukraine]^[98] they wouldn’t suffer from hunger and high prices as we do here, but then this rumor arrived [print page 100] and devastated me.^[98a] Ah, mighty God, who knows the situation of my parents and my beloved family members. Who knows if they reached their desired destination, Baranovka, and who knows what their situation is there? Oh, Lord of the Universe, give strength to bear all this hardship! It is already difficult to bear. Not for myself will my soul mourn and my heart be torn to pieces [85] but for the fate of my parents and beloved family members. Ah, when I remember these things (remember them? When do I ever not remember them?...) my soul will weep bitterly without respite.

Oh, where are the strength and patience to bear so much!

I don’t know why (and I wonder about this) now of all times my creative talent has awakened in full force. Every limb in me now cries out for creativity, to write, to create without stopping. Dozens of themes race around in my mind, and all of them flow from the depths of the heart, all offspring of the present terrible situation… these themes run into one another. I begin with one, write one line, two lines, and jot down below a little content. And then a second theme pops up, flashing another shiny idea, and I jot it down and begin the second, and while writing this, a third one pushes it, and round about…And meanwhile, I still haven’t written a single complete piece, chiefly because I lack free time; the entire day, I am busy with instruction. Only in the evening am I free. After completing the classes, I “go up” to the home of the widow Burshtak and there I write a bit of German [Ashkenaz]. After spending several hours there, I return to the home of Yehezkel and if no one there has extinguished the lamp yet, I sit and read what comes to mind that I consider suitable. But what can one do with so little time? There is much to read and much to write – and I achieve nothing.

I especially find myself in difficult straits^[98b] lately. The yearning in me grew for broader self-education (and see this too is astonishing–, now of all times during this terrible time! What is this?) to get acquainted with general literature and its authors, etc., classic and ordinary Russian books and also with the books of general literature that have been translated to Russian – there is quite enough here to satisfy me. But here I encounter material and spiritual roadblocks: there is not sufficient time, and the spiritual roadblock is also hard. I long to read Russian literature but when I take a Russian book and encounter the alien lives of the alien people described there – I cannot restrain myself from putting down the book immediately and abandoning the reading. So deep has the Hebrew spirit sunk its roots inside me —the true Hebrew spirit, — so deep has Hebrew life sunk it roots inside me, that I am not able to read about the alien lives of a foreign people that is foreign completely and utterly to my spirit. I know how necessary and indispensable a knowledge of general literature is as an aid to my talent, but despite this, I am not able to overcome it, and I find it impossible to read foreign literature. [print page 101]

At times I take pride and joy in how the root of the Hebrew spirit is so strong in my heart, and at times I am distressed by my inability to devote myself also to broader self-education that is so necessary for me. But it is possible — if only I had enough time — I would gradually engage in further education, as much as I could manage and as much as I could overcome the previously mentioned roadblock.

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Notes

[94e] [Translator’s comment:] Unless the critical edition has a typo, it appears Yitzhak made a mistake here and wrote the year as “5775” instead of “5776” which he consistently dated prior entries. [HS] ↩

[94f][Translator’s comment:] See entry for March 4, 1917, when Yitzhak remembers back on this day and mentions going to Mrs. Chaya Burshtak’s home. The widow Chaya Burshtak probably refers to the matriarch of the family, Chaya Burshtak, the mother of the Burshtak men mentioned by Yitzhak. Chaya Burshtak (née Bortnik) married Mendel Burshtak (known as Mendel Hubyner) and their sons included Shlomo, Yehezkel and Avraham Burshtak. See Yosef Weitz, “Family of Mendel Hubyner,” There was a Small Town, pp. 207-09. [HS] ↩

[95] Etke was the wife of Shlomo Burshtak from Hubyn. She is mentioned later, page [Heb.] 199 [see March 4, 1917]. ↩

[96] He is [the man called] Shlomo Milman (see [Heb] p. 93, [Nov. 12, 1915]), one of the inhabitants of Yehezkel Burshtak’s home. ↩

[97] “Meschchane Berestutzkaim.” Berestechka (Berestechko), a small town in western Ukraine, Volyn Oblast, located about 60 km south of Lutsk and 40 km west of Mlynov, whose residents fled to Russian to the Moscow Oblast, and they lived there temporarily in the Mytishchinsky district, which was the administrative center was the city Mytishchi. [Translator’s comment:] The critical edition interprets the term משצ'נים as describing the name of the town in the Mytishchinsky district. There is perhaps another possibly. The term could be a Hebrew/Yiddish rendering of the Russian/Ukrainian term мешчане (meshchane) — meaning townspeople / petty bourgeois / common townsfolk, often translated as “burghers” from the town of Berestechko. [Source: ChatGPT and Google Translate]. [HS] ↩

[98] Barnovka [Baranivka] a small town in the Zhytomyr province, located 70 km [43 m] west of the town of Zhytomyr, about two hundred km [124 mi] east of Mlynov. ↩

[98a] [Translator’s comment:] This rumor was grounded in reality. See the excellent book by Joshua A. Sanborn, Imperial Apocalyse: The Great War and the Destruction of the Russian Empire. Oxford: Oxford University, 2014, 39-53, detailing the impact of the war on civilian life and on availability of food and supplies. [HS] ↩

[98b] [Translator’s comment:] The expression, “bein hametzarim,” literally “between the straits” is a phrase from Lamentations 1:3 and also the traditional name for the three-week period of mourning between the 17th of Tammuz and the 9th of Av. It seems likely Yitzhak is using the term intentionally to emphasize the difficulty of his own experience. [HS] ↩

***

[November 30 1915 (probably Nov. 29th) ^[98c]] Monday night (lel yom gimel), 23rd of [the month of] Kislev, in the terrible period, in the village of Hubyn

I am already lodging in the home of Shlomo Burstak rather than the home of Yehezkel because, on account of the cold [caused by the whitewashing] ^[98d] they moved the beds into the dining room, and therefore I can no longer lodge there and I must, despite the inconvenience that I might cause others, lodge in the home of S. B. [Shlomo Burshtak].

Already the members of the household have gone to bed, and I sit by myself at the table by the light of the oil lamp writing my present entry.

My emotional state has been terrible in recent days. The situation is so disturbing. The longings for my parents and dear family members are so wrenching and painful, the sadness over the tragedy that befell us is so great as to be immeasurable.

Night after night, when I go up to bed, I reflect deeply on our present situation and on everything that afflicts us, especially our remoteness from our parents and beloved family members – without their knowing our fate, while we are seized with terror over their fate – and secretly, secretly my soul weeps bitterly (not with tears, because the well of my tears has dried up); it weeps bitterly until I fall asleep and forget, at least for the duration of my sleep, my awful grief and sorrow...

And during these days, which are so difficult and terrible for me, I have only one companion in sorrow and it is: my poetry. At the time that sorrow and grief press heavily on my depressed heart, I find a little comfort in my poems [and] in my writing. Poetry is my only companion in whose embrace I can spill my entire crushed soul and some of my terrible grief… Before writing this present entry, I copied into my notebook of poems, my poem “On the Destruction [hurban],”^[99] that was written in the summer while still in Mlynov in dear Father’s home, with the addition of another section that I wrote recently here in Hubyn. Understandably, only the tragedy of my people occupies the first part of the first poem. Because be that as it may, I was then sitting in Father’s cozy home, and my chief worry was for my unfortunate people [i.e. the Jewish people], but here in a foreign place, far from my beloved parents, whose situation is certainly now very terrible, while I wander alone with a bitter and dejected heart: –

...Then I will weep over two [things] (šətayim)
over my bitter fate, and over the fate of my people,
because it is bitter sevenfold. (šibʿātayim)

[Print page 102] [87] however difficult my personal emotional state is now, I have also not forgotten the sorrow of my unfortunate people, and I feel its pain and experience its sorrow. Because even now, in this time of worldwide emergency, the Jewish people suffers more than all the other peoples, because while all peoples suffer in a direct and evident way, my unfortunate people suffers indirectly and from such sources of suffering which the other peoples don’t suffer.

“…ten measures^[99a] filled with fury [God] sent down to the earth (ʾădāmâ)
from [all of] them, [only] one the entire world took [lāqāḥâ].
And the nine measures [remaining] filled to their brim,
my wretched and crushed people was privileged to receive (zākâ)”

(On the Destruction II)

As I delve into this awful tragedy of my people, I cry out with a cry of despair from the depths of my heart and weep:

...“How difficult is Your trial, O mighty and furious God!
Vast is the world and the people in it are many (rabbîm)
To all of them, You gave one measure, but to my people, poor and small
all at once You gave nine measures (qabîm)![”]...

Yes, even now in my difficult situation, I haven’t forgotten my people’s situation, and I see and understand and participate with all my feelings in its present tragedy......

Already winter rules here in full force. The freezing cold is very intense. And I already suffer a great deal from it. Isn’t it enough that I freeze up^[99a] even when it is not winter, and now the harsh winter arrives and makes it even worse--- because the nature of winter infuses me with a spirit of grief and deep sorrow, especially at nights when I go outside, and the wind blows, darkness all around, and the cold stings – a terrible sorrow and and inexplicable grief oppresses my heart. I then feel myself to be so weak, so very small and my constant sorrow grows sevenfold, and all at once the particulars of our difficult situation, in all their fullness, rise up before me. It is so hard for me then, so hard…

Here in Hubyn, they already slaughtered all the geese for Passover; they already roasted the shvisak (gribenes)^[100] and the fat. In seeing all the preparation and bustle surrounding this work, I was reminded of the time all this was done by us [in Mlynov]. Yes, last year we did this work in peace and who would have imagined then that now we would be in circumstances like this… Oh no! Who knows [print page 103] now the wellbeing of our parents and beloved family members? Will they also prepare fat [schmaltz] now for Passover? These upsetting memories arose before me: [88] Winter night. In the kitchen sit Mother, Aunty, [sisters:] Malcah, Hansa, and all of them are busy plucking feathers from the geese, the doors of the kitchen closed, so that the bird feathers would not get inside the house. By the light of a lamp, they all sit, telling stories and chatting, exchanging words through the door with us — with Moshe, me and Father, and it is so pleasant and warm...

And then, an evening preparing the geese and roasting the gribenes. Mother stands in the kitchen with much work before her carving up all the geese on the Passover benches and cutting boards with a Passover knife and Passover utensils all around, the fire burning on the hearth, and I am standing by, because I so love to watch mother’s work and to stand in the warmth of the kitchen and smell the pleasant aroma of the cooking fat and the roasting gribenes. Each and every one approaches the jar and tastes the gribenes and gives an opinion of it. Then dear Father approaches and, with his clean hands, he takes and tastes some bits of gribenes. Afterwards, they set out the gribenes for dinner, they eat and enjoy, warmth and good [cheer] all around.

The night in which they passed the geese through the fire — this was Father’s work. A dedicated pit was already prepared for this and after they already plucked the geese and took them outside, they lit a fire in the pit and passed the geese through the fire;^[100a] afterwards they would hang them from the ceiling of the storeroom (kamer)^[100b] and this too was the work of Father. Ah, the charm of the homeland (moledet), how many warm memories were stored up in all this [activity], and now?... Ah! Who knows the circumstances of my parents and beloved family members?! Who knows whether that very house, our precious home, which for dozens of years was an idyllic family nest, still stands in place? Who knows if anything remains still from it, whether even one stone remains upon another.

An image of Father arises before me and, of course, he is crestfallen from all the sorrow and grief, and my beloved mother, tormented and not able to sleep at night with worry for us! Oh, beloved parents, who will let you know that we are well, who will inform you so you can be reassured a little? Oh, my beloved parents, how my heart aches, how great is my sorrow, already so difficult for me to bear, difficult for me to carry. My heart shudders from all the longings, from all the sorrow and grief.

__________

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Notes

[98c] [Translator’s comment:] The Hebrew indicates that Yitzhak is writing on the “night of the third day” (lel yom gimel) and the 23rd of Kislev. In traditional Jewish usage, lel yom gimel means Monday night, the night beginning Tuesday. The 23rd of Kislev began at sundown on Monday, Nov. 29, and continued until sundown on Tuesday, Nov. 30. Yitzhak’s weekday designation and Hebrew date therefore agree with each other. The critical edition, however, identifies the entry as Tuesday, Nov. 30. If the entry were written Tuesday night, the Jewish date would already have been the 24th of Kislev. It therefore seems more likely that the corresponding civil date was Monday night, Nov. 29. See Diary 1, note 50a, for the general calendrical discussion.

Visual Summary

23 Kislev (sundown to sundown): Monday, Nov. 29 Tuesday, Nov. 30
24 Kislev (sundown to sundown): Tuesday, Nov. 30 Wednesday, Dec. 1

[HS] ↩

[98d] [Translator’s comment:] See Oct. 27th when Yitzhak says that Yehezkel’s home was being whitewashed and it was too cold to stay there. The cold here was apparently connected with the whitewashing. [HS] ↩

[99] The poem didn’t survive apart from these verses. ↩

[99a] [Translator’s comment:] Yitzhak appears to be punning here on the meaning of qippāʾôn which can mean physically or psychologically frozen as in brought to a standstill. [HS] ↩

[99b] [Translator’s comment:] Yitzhak appears to be punning here on the meaning of qippāʾôn which can mean physically or psychologically frozen as in brought to a standstill. [HS] ↩

[100] Gribenes [Yiddish name]: pieces of chicken or goose skin roasted or fried and made crispy and eaten by themselves or with matzah. A typical food for Passover. [Translator’s comment:] The word “shvisak” may be a Russian word for “cracklings” (shvarki). [HS] ↩

[100a] [Translator’s comment:] My collaborator, Hanina Epstein, has family memories of this process. The geese were passed through the fire to eliminate any remnants of feathers after the plucking. [HS] ↩

[100b] [Translator’s comment:] In parentheses, the word “kamer,” a Yiddish word for chamber or room. [HS] ↩

***

[December 3, 1915] Sabbath eve [Friday], first day (first),^[100c] second [day] of Hanukkah [26th of Kislev], 5676, in the terrible period, in the village of Hubyn [Pershyi]

The frost that prevailed in full force for several days – has subsided somewhat, the roofs drip, drops, drops, the heavy snow has melted, and sometimes winter rain has fallen to the ground, the skies are cloudy. The heavens are cloudy above, and my heart is cloudy below… what gloom rests on everything! Everything is in mourning, everything laments the terrible destruction [89] that is taking place all around… You stay [print page 104] at home – bitter and sad ideas arise one after the other in your mind and you find no relief from them; You go outside and your state of mind gets even worse, terrible anguish attacks your heart at the sight of desolate nature, the moaning wind, sometimes howling, sometimes threatening and taunting… All the sorrow and grief that have been accumulating in your heart throughout these days stand prominently before you in all their dreadfulness at such moments and then the heart is bitter and it is very difficult...

It is now Hanukkah in the world.

What awful and concealed pain squeezes my heart in a strong, terrible grip. Through my mind pass image after image from the days of Hanukkah in dear Father’s home. Images and visions pass by and each one scratches my hurting heart. The images are so numerous and the wounds in my heart are so severe… but my sadness is not so great over those good days which I no longer have, but rather I am saddened that those idyllic and quiet days – do not now exist for my dear parents and my beloved family members.

I recall the Hanukkah festival in Father’s home in my small native town (môledet).^[100d]

How I loved, how I revered and venerated the days of this festival, what hidden and modest charm, what holy serenity infuses those days. Though these days are formally secular days, like other weekdays, still a special charm and special serenity rested in them. Hanukkah night. The menorah is polished and rubbed to honor the festival, and it stands on the chair by the bedroom entrance beneath the spot where the clock hangs. Father approaches with a candle in his hand and blesses the candles in the familiar tune but with a marvelous voice and harmony. I’ve heard many people bless the Hanukkah candles before, but I’ve heard no one bless them with as beautiful a melody and voice as my dear Father. He would bless the candles, sit on the chair opposite the lit candles and with a beautiful intonation and melody he would recite the Hanukkah song “Maoz Tzur Yeshuati” [Rock of Ages]… and other songs devoted to Hanukkah. How I loved to sit and look, now at his beloved face, now at modest and holy Maccabee candles;^[100e] what serenity, what charm filled my heart then and saturated it with delight and tranquility no end, and with longings for all that is exalted and of the beauty of the national ideal… and afterwards to sit in the family circle and play cards etc.,… and what a serene and pleasant idyll enveloped everything – – – and now?

Oh, my heart is torn to pieces when I call these things to mind in the present situation. Yikes, who knows where and in what manner dear Father now blesses the Hanukkah candles?... How many tears he spills while he recites the blessing… Alas, terrible, terrible: everything is destroyed , there is no home, no possessions, no nothing, and above all – a distance separating us from each other, and one person doesn’t know what has become of the others. Here we weep and grieve over their fate [90] which is unknown to us, and there they weep and grieve over our fate which is unknown to them...[print page 105]

Is there comfort for sorrow as terrible as this?

And such is Hanukkah this year...

~~~~~~~~~~~

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Notes

[100c] [Translator’s comment:] Hanukkah began Wednesday eve that year. The first day of Hanukkah was Thursday and the second day was Friday. Yitzhak was writing on Friday (erev Shabbat), Dec. 3rd, the second day of Hanukkah. It is not clear why he did not scratch out the word “first” both times the word appeared. [HS] ↩

[100d] [Translator’s comment:] Living in Hubyn, on the Austro-Hungarian side of the front, Yitzhak now refers to his birthplace Mlynov as “his homeland” (môledet), a term that he previously preferred to use to describe the Land of Israel. See, for example, his entry on July 16, 1914, July 22, 1914. On Aug. 23, 1914, Yitzhak actually put a question mark after the use of the term homeland when it was used by Jews to describe Russia. ↩

[100e] [Translator’s comment:] On the use of the term “Maccabee candles,” see my discussion in the interpretive summary. [HS] ↩

***

[December 7, 1915] Seventh night of Hanukkah, 5676, in the terrible period, in the village of Hubyn [Pershyi]

While in a terrible emotional state, the days pass me by. One day chases the next – and I am so depressed, so broken, is it possible to be consoled? Is it possible to forget for a moment the circumstances in which we find ourselves? I already remarked once in "my daily" [diary] in entries written already in a foreign land (nēkār) that the [Yiddish] folk proverb "troubles find their place"^[101] has not held true for me in the least—on the contrary. From day to day my situation grows darker and becomes ever more boldly apparent to me. From day to day, I become more aware of its horror; from day to day my longings grow stronger for my parents and beloved family members, and simultaneously my terrible sorrow continues to grow knowing how intense and difficult their worry about us, the missing ones. When I see children and people, who have not been separated, sitting together, I am fiercely jealous of these happy people and feel how unfortunate we are in being torn from our beloved parents who are melting away^[101a] from sorrow not knowing our fate and we – [not knowing] their fate.

It is already difficult, so difficult to bear my terrible sorrow that silently sucks my life force; and may the One “who gives strength to the weary,”^[102] give me strength and fortitude to bear this terrible sorrow, and also give strength to my beloved parents and all my family members to endure their worry about us. For I imagine that, however terrible our sorrow is here, their sorrow for us – is seven times more terrible...

Oh, how hard for the heart, how heavy the stone that weighs upon it. I cannot bear it!

Two of us are here, my brother Moshe and me. But we almost have not exchanged a word between us even when we are in a group together. I avoid conversing with him as much as possible, so that the conversation won’t turn to our situation and won’t throw salt on our mortal wounds or intensify the pain sevenfold... And perhaps it is the same with him, human feeling deceives him into thinking it will be easier not to speak or converse about what troubles and saddens him... This is the natural human emotion, and it is this which prevents^[102a] me also from engaging my brother in conversation. Lord of the Universe, with what compassion and with what pain I look upon my brother, and every time I look at him, my heart is torn to pieces. [91] There are times I look outside through the window and see him walking alone, and I accompany him with a gaze of sorrow and compassion and with a heart full of pain, I accompany him. Why? Why? I myself do not know, what a hidden feeling of compassion is aroused in me upon seeing him, knowing how horrible his emotional state [print page 106] and how much his heart weeps secretly inside… Who knows perhaps feelings like these also attack him concerning me?...

With an aching and bitter heart which weeps secretly, I dredge up in my memory the moments of separation when we parted from our beloved parents on that terrible morning that we left Mlynov with Weitz and Shteren etc.^[102b] Oh how much dear Mother cried then, how much dear Father cried then! Mother wept, crying out through her tears, what was her entire life worth if her sons were not with her? She wept and we followed her in bitter weeping. Father wept, without words he wept – – – and our hearts shattered from all the pain.

“My sons,” Father called to us – “please observe [even] the most minor commandment and don’t sin and don’t get up in the morning even once without trimming the nails!”^[103] ...because the fury [of God] is great and we need to cry out and plead for mercy. These words, spoken through tears, descended to the depths of the heart and sliced away pieces, pieces...

Oh, dear and beloved Father! If only I could let you know that the religious feeling is strong in me and has awakened in me precisely in recent days. All of me is prayer and supplication before the Lord of the Universe, and if there were many days in which I didn’t pray at all, still the heart didn’t cease praying for even a moment and all of me was but a prayer… and here, I pray every day, with true intention I pour out my soul before the God of Israel [in hopes] that He have mercy on us and all the house of Israel for the waters have reached my soul [Psalm 69:2]!... Every day I pray and my soul pours forth in prayer!

Truly, the religious feeling is strong in me. In place of dry intelligence and arid research, a warm feeling rules within me, born of the heart’s depths, a pure religious feeling that warms the heart and binds it to prayer and faith in the God of the World, and day by day when I pray, how my heart finds relief, how good prayer is for it.

May this feeling of mine be blessed!

During these difficult days, which guide me to rest [perhaps “deprive me of rest”],^[103a] which pain my heart and crush me til I’m dust – the following idea comes to mind: to begin writing a book of memories from the days of my youth. [92] Because now during these awful days, when I feel the sweetness of those good days when I was a lad in the home of good Father, how good it was good and warm for me during the days of my childhood, now in my coming to fully realize and know the value of those days – I want to establish for them a name and [print page 107] remembrance on paper so that they will not be lost from my memory. Because sometimes childhood memories console the broken soul a little by lifting her on their wings to other times past, to a beautifully distant world full of charm, and how good it would be if I could bring my idea to fruition, and save my childhood memories from the abyss of oblivion...

The heart hurts too much, it has already grown too thick^[104] from so much sorrow and grief.^[105] See here I am young, young with all my limbs crying out “to life!” And look how difficult and awful are the best days of my life: the feelings of youth retreated into a corner and have nothing; all of my aspirations, all my longings are only for my beloved parents and family members, and the pleasures and lusts of youth are far now from my mind, but there are times when adolescent feelings try to burst out and to test their strength; look how they are breaking out, breaking out, girding themselves with strength and succeeding momentarily, but immediately they are beaten back and their strength dissipates and weakens.

...but I am not referring to true and complete love here. Why do we deceive ourselves, a young man loves each young woman who catches his eye, every pretty young woman steals his heart. This is a known fact.

At first Z. B. [Zahava Bortnik]^[106] didn’t steal my heart at all, even though I recognized her charm and beauty. Pretty black eyes and an open and beautiful face on which a charming smile hovers, a bit tall, a pretty mouth even of admittedly not small – but pretty. Well then, from the beginning she didn’t steal my heart at all, but day to day I better recognized her charm more and more.

And yesterday evening I had several pleasant moments in which the feelings of adolescence apparently tried to break forth...

At a late hour yesterday, I finished teaching the classes. It was already dark outside. Z. B. and her second sister Miriam wanted to “go up” to their [aunt]^[106a] Chaya, and we decided to walk together. It was pitch-black outside, rain drizzled, and because the road became slippery during the day, it was hard to walk. Z. B. took with her some linens [or undergarments] to bring to some gentile woman for washing. She grabbed the whites and we left the house. We didn’t have a torch. When we went outside the walking was very treacherous for us, and when we went up on the small bridge behind their house, Z. B. called to me: “Give me your hand…” [93] I hadn’t expected anything like this at all… Gladly, I embraced her arm with my hand, and walked like that with her the whole way. When we arrived near the home of [her aunt] Chaya, her sister entered the house, and I walked on with Z. to the gentile woman’s house to deliver the whites. After giving her the garments, she was freer now, because the load of the undergarments had been heavy for her the whole way, [print page 108] and when we left the home of the gentile woman, we again interlocked our arms until we reached the home of Chaya. These moments pleased me very much. Z. B. rose in my estimation many times over…and how much affection I feel for her!

Look how the youthful feelings mounted an attack last night, which apparently succeeded, but in truth their strength was very weak; this is not the essential issue for me. My sorrow—the sorrow of my longing for my parents— still holds that [primary] place, and I do not allow the feelings of youth to grow stronger...]^[107]

~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~

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Notes

[101] A literal Yiddish translation “Troubles dwell in one place.” In the translation by Lamdan, “Troubles find their place." [see Sept. 26, 1915] ↩

[101a] [Translator’s comment:] The term is from the biblical meaning “melt” here interpreted as melting away, dissolving or unraveling. [HS] ↩

[102] Quoting Isaiah 40:29: “Who gives strength to the weary, fresh vigor to the spent.” [Translator’s comment: The wording “who gives strength to the weary” (ha-noten la-ya‘ef koah) closely echoes the morning Birchot Hashachar blessing, which is itself based on Isaiah 40:29. The inclusion of the definite article in Yitzhak’s wording corresponds to the form used in the blessing. [HS] ↩

[102a] [Translator’s comment:] The printed Hebrew has meni‘ani (“moves/impels me”), but the context clearly requires the opposite sense, “prevents me” (mone‘ani) which is very close in Hebrew and may reflect a misspelling by Yitzhak or a transcription error. [HS] ↩

[102b] [Translator’s comment:] See Yitzhak’s entry on Sept. 5, 1915, when he describes his departure from Mlynov with Chaim Shteren. On Sept. 3rd he mentioned David Weitz arriving in Mlynov and it appears David and his wife traveled with them from Mlynov to Dubno. [HS] ↩

[103] [According to the critical edition:] “‘Netilat ha-tsipornayim’ is the washing of the hands upon rising in the morning, intended to remove the evil spirit that rests on the ends of a person’s hands during sleep. According to the Shulchan Arukh, Orach Chayim, Laws Governing a Person’s Conduct in the Morning, Siman 4, Seif 2. [Translator’s comment:] This explanation is problematic as it now stands. "Netilat ha-tsipornayim" ordinarily means clipping the fingernails (see, for example, Jerusalem Talmud Moed Katan 3:1), whereas the morning ritual washing of the hands is called "netilat yadayim." Indeed, the cited passage in the Shulchan Arukh discusses washing the hands, not “trimming the fingernails.”

Whatever the meaning of the phrase, we know from the following paragraph in the diary that Yitzhak understood his father’s words here to be an exhortation to be scrupulous in religious observance. That is why Yitzhak immediately imagines reassuring his father that his religious feeling is strong and that he now prays every day. Yitzhak thus understood his father to be urging his sons to be religiously diligent. There are thus several possible understandings of what Yitzhak’s father meant:

1) Given the critical edition’s explanatory reference to the Shulchan Arukh section dealing with morning hand washing, it seems possible that a textual error crept into the printed text and that the original diary entry was referring to netilat yadayim. However, this possibility seems unlikely given the care with which the editors supplied bracketed letters in reconstructing the Hebrew word “fingernails.”

2) There is a limited discussion of nail trimming rules in the halachic tradition; the texts discuss whether it is permissible to trim the nails such during Chol HaMoed and during mourning (Jer. Talmud Moed Katan 3:1; Shulchan Arukh, Orach Chayim 532:1) and describe cutting the nails on Friday before the Sabbath as a mitzvah, as well as the order in which they should be trimmed (Shulcan Arukh, Orach Chayim 260:1) but not as a daily obligation as the wording here in the diary seem to imply. Perhaps Yitzhak’s father was exhorting his sons to go beyond even ordinary requirements of religious scrupulousness.

3) There is also a known religious obligation involving washing the fingertips, called “mayim acharonim.” According to the Shulchan Arukh this washing need extend only partway up the fingers (Orach Chayim 181:4). But that ritual was performed only after a meal and before reciting Grace After Meals, not every morning (see Chullin 105b and Eruvin 17b). My colleague, Hanina Epstein, tells me that his family performed a similar washing of the fingertips in the morning upon rising. I have not been able to verify whether this custom was widespread.

4) It also seems possible that, at such an emotional moment of separation, Yitzhak’s father was intentionally referring to a trivial and non-halachic action to give his sons moral guidance on their departure from Mlynov, as if to say “take care of yourselves in even the smallest seemingly insignificant details.”[HS] ↩

[103a] [Translator’s comment:] The printed Hebrew, ha-madrîkhîm (“which guide/instruct”), is difficult in context. A very similar form, ha-maddîrîm (“which deprive/keep away”), would yield the contextually appropriate sense “which deprive me of rest.” [HS] ↩

[104] “Tafash,” meaning dense, made course and opaque as in Psalm 119:70 “their minds are thick [tafash] like fat; as for me, Your teaching is my delight.” ↩

[105] Over this whole section, from the words “The heart hurts” until the words “to grow stronger” an “X” is drawn twice for deletion. [Translator’s comment:] See Yitzhak’s explanation for marking sections for erasure on Jan. 23, 1916 [HS]. ↩

[106] Zahava Bortnik, the beloved student of Yitzhak Lamdan. [Translator’s comment: daughter of Moshe Bortnik, who Yitzhak mentions meeting on the road near Hubyn on Oct. 13, 1915, and on Oct 26, he mentions teaching Moshe Bortnik’s children]. [HS] ↩

[106a] [Translator’s comment:] Chaya Burshtak (née Bortnik) was the sister of Z. B.’s father Moshe Bortnik. She had married Mendel Burshtak who was known in town as “Mendel Hubyner.” They had a house up on the hill overlooking the town. See Yosef Weitz, “Family of Mendel Hubyner.” [HS] ↩

[107] The erasure mark [i.e., the double X] reached to this point in the diary. ↩

***

[December 11,1915] Saturday night (lel yom aleph), 5th of [the month of] Tevet, 5676, in the village of Hubyn [Pershyi], in the terrible period

Everyone is already sleeping in the home of Shlomo Burshtak, and only I sit by myself at the table and write my poem “In a Foreign Country."^[107a] I weave myself a fabric of longings, filled with painful sorrow and every anger and bitterness. Oh, there are moments like these when my sorrow reaches the highest level; in all its terror, the present situation of our family stands out before me in all its horror – and it is difficult then for my heart, unbearably hard...

I was in a terrible state like this yesterday on Friday night [lel Shabbat]. My emotional state was terrible. I thought about our home, about the parents and all our family members, whose welfare only the Lord knows – I reflected like this on everything – and the heart fermented from so much sorrow and grief. With a heart filled with bitterness, I lay down to sleep, and all night long, I dreamt sweet dreams: Here I am in Mlynov in Father’s home, the damage is not extensive, and we found much is still intact. And I call out to Moshe, “Look it is a miracle. [See] the total appearance of the house with everthing in it now!”– that too appeared to me in the dream!...

[In the dream] I am with all our family members and we are joyful that we have been fortunate enough to see one another again, and how good and warm it is …but then wakefulness arrives – slaps you in the face proving to you these are only dreams, only dreams...

But where is comfort, where is rest for the heart that is hurting so much and is grieved?... You say: Let your youthful feelings expand a bit and this will perhaps make you forget the mortal wounds of your heart for a while?

Here I am trying this now,^[108] I am allowing the feelings of youth to break out; I am trying more and more to bring the relationship between me and Z. B. closer, so that I can enjoy myself in her company for a few moments or hours during these difficult days – [94] But suddenly I loathe this too, seeing myself so pitiable, so depressed, and viewing the matter to be inappropriate, so vain and empty, bowing down before the woman’s exteriority while speaking words and taking an interest in [print page 109] matters that are not at all aligned with who I am, but someone who understands my spirit, and is truly like-minded – that she isn’t. Her minimal knowledge in [the Hebrew] language doesn’t enable her to understand literature or to penetrate the mysteries of the poet’s heart… and also among the friends I don’t have anyone like this, except Yermeyahu Maisler^[109] (and also B. [Ben-Tzion] Gruber^[109a] a bit) and among the girls, all the more so [is it difficult to find such a kindred spirit]. Apart from this, there are moments that youthful desire appears to me so empty, and my heart, the heart of a poet, demands something more sublime, more exalted, demands complete gratification… the heart of a poet yearns, yearns...

Nevertheless there is still enough youth in the young man’s feelings because they are a young man’s feelings and they have the capacity to grow stronger and break forth intensely and they urge me on: yikes, sate yourself, young man, amid a sea of glances from the pretty young woman; sit and enjoy her company, because the days of youth will not last forever…– –

They urge me on^[110] and give me a youthful spirit and turn some of my thoughts towards the young woman, and [I] converse with Z. B. for the purposes of affection and friendship, and she apparently looks favorably (lit. shines her face) on me… the feelings of youth are certainly also, also strong in her. But if in my case, the one depressed and broken, who wanders in a foreign country, far from his parents, and whose parents’ home has been destroyed… if [even] in my case, the one who is depressed – they show signs of life like this, then in her case, a person who does not suffer from all this and who lives peacefully in the home of her parents – how much more so [does she experience these feelings]...

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Notes

[107a] [Translator’s comment:] See note 36a on Yitzhak’s use of the term (nēkār) to mean a foreign place or a foreign country. [HS] ↩

[108] From the words “Here I am” ([Heb.] page 108) until the words “during these difficult days” (bottom of [Heb.] page 108) the passage is marked with an X for deletion. ↩

[109] [Translator’s comment: Yermeyahu Maisler is mentioned in an essay by Shmuel Mandelkern (Yitzhak’s future brother-in-law) as one of four young men committed to Zionism in Mlynov and one who was involved in the effort to send Yaakov-Yosi to the Land of Israel. See “In those days…Yaakov-Yosi goes to the Land of Israel (or doesn’t go…),” In Mlynov-Muravica Memorial, p. 191, 193 [Heb. Page 208, 211]. Mandelkern writes there: “My friend was Yermeyahu Maisler, son of Mr. Mendel the writer (schreiber) from the Jewish community of Mlynov: He held fast to Zionism after being a student of the Rav Yitzchak Yaacov Reines (who merited a number of roads in Israel being named after him), [and] was the Rav and head of the orthodox secondary school (mesivta) of the town of Lida, in the area of Vilna.” Yermeyahu was also hired to teach the children of his cousins in Trovits [Torhovytsya]. The young Zionists leveraged his relationship there in their efforts to raise money (see p. 193 in the Memorial book). [HS] ↩

[109a] [Translator’s comment:] Yitzhak mentions Ben-Tzion Gruber in his diary on two earlier occasions back in 1914 (July 29 and Sept. 9) as a friend who walks with him from Mervits and one who is like-minded on Zionist matters. [HS] ↩

[110] The paragraph is crossed out with an X from the words “these urge me on” until “all the more so.” ↩

***

[December 12, 1915] Sunday night (lel yom bet),^[110a] 6th of [the month of] Tevet, in the terrible period, in the village of Hubyn Pershyi

Like a pomegranate full of seeds, seeds, so too is my heart filled with moving feelings, and all sorts of reflections, but they don’t persist: this one goes by and this one arrives, this one departs and this one enters. If only I were able to record it all, or more correctly [stated], express it all in writing – how marvelous would be the work that issues then from my pen...

The heart is hurled from hope to despair, from despair to hope.

There are times when someone comes and talks and proves to you that peace drawing near [95] and then a silent hope which comforts you captures your heart: Don’t worry, hope for better days that will come in the future… and for a few moments you allow this hope to entertain you; but there are times that another person comes with a different rumor or proof on his lips: that the war will continue will drag on and on, longer than expected, that its end has not yet arrived, and the rivers of blood will not cease – then sorrow, terrible sorrow grip your heart and depress it [print page 110] intensely. You look around you and you ask: Lord of the Universe! What happened to Your world? Why do You allow that very beautiful world to be disfigured so?... and these wretched creatures who could have spent their lives in serenity and quiet– why do they continue to decide the fate of thousands adversely?!

You are reminded of your personal troubles, of the terrible situation our family is in now, and you are also reminded now of the plight of your unfortunate people, of our work in the Land, which the Lord knows if any sign of life still persists there?...and your heart worries and hurts. There is nothing but worry and grief and terrible ceaseless sorrow, which sucks your lifeforce incessantly. –––––

–––––––––––––

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Notes

[110a] [Translator’s comment:] Here Yitzhak unambiguously uses the Jewish style of calendrical reference, not the civil style, referring to Sunday night as the “night of the second day” [of the week] (“lel yom bet”). See earlier discussion in note 50a in Diary Notebook 1. [HS]. ↩

***

[December 18, 1915] Saturday night (motzei Shabbat), 11th of Tevet,^[110b] 5676, in the terrible period, in the village of Hubyn [Pershyi]

That same terrible emotional state which holds sway over me has not ceased. And is it possible to be otherwise? There are moments in which all that hardship that found us, [and] all that terrible sorrow that afflicts us, blurs a little, in other words, [there are moments] that their sting is not felt so much. But a condition like this does not last for hours but indeed only for moments… Immediately you are reminded in which world you are, and you are persuaded – how awful and difficult is your situation; you are reminded of all the suffering that beset you and your father’s household and the terrible situation in which you all now find yourselves – and your heart feels like it will burst apart from the pain… when I remember how far and separate we are from our dear parents and from all our family members – and the Lord knows until when…. and we know nothing about their wellbeing and their lives; and when we remember their situation there stemming from their worry over our fate (although hopefully they lack nothing, just as we lack nothing materially speaking... ) – how awful the pain that attacks the heart, and how horrible the sorrow and worry that are sucking the lifeforce of your broken soul…[96] and in the darkness of distress, amid a sea of suffering and grief, amid the malicious waters reaching as high as the throat (lit. up to the soul) [see Isa. 30:28]; amid the difficult and bitter despair, and constant pain that squeezes the heart nonstop - what is the lone ray of light that beckons me and wants to sweeten some moments for me during the long days of hardship?... I go about desolate and broken. My youthful impulses^[110c] – – mountains of despair and grief cover them, but beneath the choking from these mountains [of grief and despair], the wretched youthful impulses complained, lamented, grew bitter because they are going to wither in the days of their blooming, and how hard, how awful their situation is, as I said about them [in my poem]:

Alone without air and sun
You will wither in the days of your blooming.

(In a Foreign Place,^[110d] from my poems)

The wretched youthful impulses – they complained, they grew bitter, were angry, they had no peace and did not rest. They tried to break out with all their force, they tried to throw off the mountains of manure that were piled on them, or if they were unable to move these difficult mountains – then to break a path for themselves through the thickness of these mountains to go free [print page 111] and, and behold ^[111] breaches and cracks appeared in these mountains of manure and the sparks of my youth began to poke out and rise from these cracks…– – – – – because my relationship to Z. B. is not currently a relationship to a friend but rather a relationship to someone I love,^[111a] with each and every moment she enchants me more and more.

Perhaps I am committing a sin against the present time in general and against our situation in particular, – allowing myself now to discuss matters such these…but am I at fault for this?... Indeed, such are my words above, because the sparks of youth broke a path for themselves of their own accord through the thick depths of the mountains… and what can I do if she stalks my soul with her charm?......

I know and I won’t conceal this (if indeed now is not the time to speak about this, and perhaps I am committing a moral offence with these words of mine) that every pretty young woman my age attracts me and captures my heart, which is the nature of all young men…and not just one young woman has previously attracted me. It is possible that my present relationship to Z. B. is also only a temporary and transient relationship [97] and is it possible^[112] that as I meet some other pretty young women, I will forget her and connect with them? (Oh, how hard it is for me to write such things “now”^[112a] ...) (But I do not want to hide anything from my diary...) It is possible [it is a temporary relationship]…but what is the hidden and mighty feeling that bubbles up in deep within my heart in my relationship to her? I myself know how to differentiate between one feeling and another, and now I feel that the feelings now filling my heart – they are only feelings of love...I feel such strong feelings of fondness toward her, a sort of delicateness and charm, and always, after I leave their house, a hidden anguish remains in my heart...yes, I feel that I love her – – –

***

Today I spent almost all day with her, we read together, and how I loved looking into her pretty eyes and at the whole innocent and modest appearance of such a lovely daughter of Israel … now it is possible for me to say that during moments I am in her company I feel a certain hidden inner pleasure – which has been denied us for some time now, since we left the nest of our native land (môladtēnû) ... I try as much as I can to bring her close to me, whether my efforts are bearing fruit – for now I cannot tell. Her disposition to me is pleasant and sunny,^[112b] but I don’t know if “it is special”... or whether she simply relates this way to every man...

***

In the darkness of distress,^[112c] amid the mire of bitter life, in the midst of the malicious waters that rise as high as the throat [lit. up to the soul]; in the midst of difficult and bitter despair, and constant pain that squeezes the heart nonstop - what is the lone ray of light that beckons me and wants to sweeten some moments for me during the long days of hardship?.

***

See how great is the strength of the youthful impulses amid the thick mountains of suffering and grief that cover them, – they cleared winding paths for themselves and are poking out and rising, rising and bursting forth...

***

But that same terrible sadness that fills my heart in the wake of our situation – has not decreased, but instead continues to grow bigger, and gnaws the heart nonstop – –

– – – – – – – – – –

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Notes

[110b][Translator’s comment:] [Here again on a Saturday night, Yitzhak uses the date of Saturday day (11th of Tevet) rather than treating Saturday night as the beginning of the next Jewish day (12th of Tevet). He does this fairly consistently on Saturday nights, though not always. As discussed earlier, there are two possible explanations. Because Yitzhak does this fairly consistently on Saturday nights, the more likely explanation is that, for experiential and religious reasons, he is treating motzei Shabbat as still belonging to the lingering sacred Sabbath and thus retaining the same date as the Sabbath day, even though the Jewish calendar date has technically changed at sunset. Alternatively, he may at times be thinking in civil calendrical terms, in which Saturday night still belongs to Saturday rather than to Sunday. See the earlier discussion in Diary 1, note 50a, and note 94b, which lists other examples of this pattern.

Visual Summary
11 Tevet: (sundown to sundown): Friday, Dec. 17 → Dec. 18
12 Tevet: (sundown to sundown): Saturday, Dec. 18 → Dec. 19
Technically, Saturday night is 12 Tevet on the Jewish calendar. Yitzhak labels the date 11 Tevet. [HS] ↩

[110c] [Translator’s comment:] The Hebrew term Yitzhak uses for “youth/adolescence” here is plural and he poetically talks about “them” and what “they” do. I added the term “feelings” here to capture the poetic agricultural metaphor that Yitzhak invokes of plants or flowers (the feelings of adolescence) that are buried under the mounds of grief and pain and are trying to burst out of the ground and blossom. [HS] ↩

[110d] [Translator’s comment:] See note 89 in this Diary for background on this poem and other references to this poem and note 36a for a discussion of the poem’s name. The word that Yitzhak uses here for “alone” can also mean “childless” and though that is not the primary meaning here one wonders whether this carries an allusion to the sexual desires of adolescence that lead to procreation. [HS] ↩

[111] From the words “look now”… until the words “more and more” there is a symbol of deletion. ↩

[111a] The Hebrew term here, ʾôhēb, could be translated as “lover” and though the passage suggests erotic feelings the term doesn’t carry those connotations here. Indeed, as the entry continues, Yitzhak is still not clear whether Z. B.’s feelings are comparable to his own. ↩

[112] From the words “that as I meet more” until the word “like with every man” lines of deletion are drawn in different forms: crisscrossing, wavy, and diagonal lines. ↩

[112a] [Translator’s comment:] Yitzhak means it is difficult “now” in the current situation of war and separation from his family to speak about falling in love. [HS] ↩

[112b] [Translator’s comment:] The Hebrew word here is from the root hēʾîr which means to shine, to glow, to illuminate, to light up, hence “sunny.” I’ve taken it here as meaning something positive like we say when someone has a sunny disposition. Yitzhak often uses metaphors of light to describe Zahava, punning on her name which derives from the stem (zāhāb) for “gold” and “golden.” [HS] ↩

[112c] [Translator’s comment:] Yitzhak is quoting himself here and repeating words he wrote above in the first paragraph as he introduced the subject of his youthful feelings. He replaced the phase he wrote earlier (“amid a sea of suffering and grief,”) with the words “amid the mire of bitter life.” [HS] ↩

***

[98]

[December 19, 1915] Sunday night, 13th of [the month of] Tevet, in the terrible period, in the village of Hubyn [Pershyi]

When I look at and delve well into my present life and situation, tied, of course, via thousands of threads to the lives of others and their situation, – a certain terrible confusion appears to me on which it is impossible to impose order. What an unfortunate picture in the middle of which is chiseled a big “question mark”: how suddenly did this terrible upheaval occur in our lifetimes? Is all this for real?... All this that we now suffer – is it really happening?… It is not possible for me to complete the thought because indeed this is the way it is; It is not possible for me to describe this in a straightforward manner. I approach [the subject] via nervous energy [irritable (nervous?) anger], heavy sadness that irritates my heart and scratches without mercy.

Look, if the difficult sorrow and grief that afflicts me day and night without stopping is reduced – a new sorrow and pain is added: the sorrow of love, the pain of love…when I am by myself, I turn my attention to this, it seems to me that I ridicule myself, but in truth this is how it is. Without any ridicule or deception… slowly, slowly my heartfelt feelings towards Z. B. are becoming deep feelings of love, along with my worrying perhaps she won’t reciprocate (lit. return love to my lap) – this matter is causing me great sorrow.

Then today, when I studied in the home of Z. B.’s parents, I faced very difficult moments in the evening, all my worries got entangled and mixed up together in my mind, my situation, my worry about the situation of my parents and all my family member and their well-being, and our situation in general, the terrible tragedy that sickens us now together with the sorrow and pain of love, all this is united together in me like a heavy troubling stone that can’t be moved from its place; Then Z. recognized my situation and asked about the meaning of my sadness.^[113] “Ha! If only you felt my heart now!”- I answered her. And these short words were sufficient to pique her interest to know the meaning of my sadness; she apparently understood that there were several things behind it, or she was just simply interested in the heart of a young man who breathes the pleasure of youth, and therefore her interest grew. She implored me many times to tell her everything in my heart, but was it possible for me to tell her?... I looked into her pretty eyes. I saw that they were truly sparkling from a hidden wish to know what was in my heart, but was it possible for me to reveal to her the secret? On account of my new love, a poem was already written which she saw when I was staying with them and writing on pieces of paper, and I told her I was simply writing an interesting poem [99] and in her learning today that I already finished this poem – how she implored me to show her my poem, but I rebuffed her with various excuses. Because is it possible for me to show her my poem that is dedicated specifically to her?… What should I do in as much as I want her in the end to know what exists there deep in my heart, my secret, but, on the other hand, I am very afraid that the matter will cause me some hidden, spiritual catastrophe that will produce much discomfort and perhaps something worse than discomfort. How can I take the risk and show her my poem? No, I will not show her anything. I will not tell her anything. As more days pass, our relationship of friendship will hopefully become clearer. I will hopefully try to sometimes hint to her with subtle hints and words that are measured and considered – and perhaps on her own she will open up and the appropriate welcome moment will arrive and then I can reveal all, and perhaps I will not also need to reveal to her generally, because my love for her will develop and she feel it naturally in the course of things in a gradual progression from day to day?...

There are moments that I think that she loves my brother (how ludicrous I appear in my own eyes in writing this present entry…). I don’t know if it only seems that way to me, due to my love for her, that I tend to perceive her distancing from me in every little thing, or if it truly is this way, thus it seems to me from isolated simple chatter and my thinking about this, my love for her expands many times over, and the strong feeling of love produces waves in my innermost heart. Doesn’t she love me? Will she look favorably on others and not me? This is how I think, and this is what I express in these moments…

There are times that an idea like the following occurs to me: No, no I don’t need to reveal anything to her, because I don’t trust myself. Here I am already “suspect,” that perhaps truly her heart will follow me, and I will retreat after that from her by my befriending other young women, because the heart of a young man leans right and left [i.e., is not steadfast] – and then will this [fickleness] not be my offense? – an ethical infraction unforgiveable, and how dare I do this? Perhaps I love her only coincidentally, temporarily and not more, and why should I create a complete process – whose end state is liable to cause terrible discomfort and moral heartache both to me and to others… But immediately I revert in my thinking: Will I leave that very fine young woman? Will I become bored with her innocent eyes? Is it possible? And she who quickly captivated my heart, is it possible someone else will find favor in place of her? Really? That’s what I think to myself. How to behave – it is still impossible to decide.

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Notes

[113] The word pētēr, Aramaic for Hebrew pēšēr, “meaning, intent” ↩

***

[December 22, 1915] Wednesday night, 16th of [the month of] Tevet, 5676, in the terrible period, in the village of Hubyn [Pershyi]

Yesterday and the day before I wanted to record in the diary the matters that follow below but due to external causes, I didn’t have a chance, and I am writing now.

Something like anger imprisoned me and serious ridicule filled me when reading my previous entries and recalling in general my passing thoughts that governed me recently with the emergence of a new issue to address: my relationship with Z. B. What a hothead I am, so hasty. What a scaredy-cat! Real shame attacked me in recalling my flighty and impestuous thoughts. Here I’ve gotten to know Z. B. and during several weeks “love” apparently developed in me. Lord of the Universe! What a rash person I am! I’ve thought about this a lot and because I am “suspect” in my own eyes a bit in these matters, I tried to thoroughly investigate the matter and judge whether indeed my relationship was one of love or just a typical relationship between a young man and young woman, which are customarily called by the name of love… I investigated thoroughly and pondered thoughtfully, because the matter must be known to avoid deceiving myself and others; to avoid planting in me unnecessary sadness and superfluous worry. I worked hard at the matter, and I found that I was rash, shallow, a scaredy-cat and hasty. My relationship to Z. B. is straightforward and how foolish to label it with the name of love?... Truly, the young woman is pretty, full of grace and she has the power to attract the heart, but certainly none of this is able to implant true love. In general, the heart of the young man is not at ease and at peace and doesn’t love a single variety, and all young women who are attractive to him – are loved by him. This is a general rule governing adolescence life. And how stupid of me. How reckless my impulse.

What great restraint I exercised related to the previous entries that were written at the time of my big “error;” what drunken error came over me, and I would have ripped up those pages from the diary; But no! Leave these pages be! The diary is a mirror which reflects my life, an echo of all that goes on inside me – there will be days like this that I make big mistakes like this – their echo is faithful [as a reflection of what was going on]. Yes, this is the only purpose of the diary for me, and I am able to include in it everything, everything, including also matters like this…In any case, I already learned to be cautious in such matters in the coming days if I live, God willing, and not rely too much on my feelings since I am suspect in my own eyes.

[101] And a poem is already written during these days to honor this. Of course, this poem is part of these feelings that fill my heart, only on some of these days, and now I don’t have any part of that, but its literary value, for its part, I can’t deny. It has in its many sparks that I indeed carved from my heart… A poem like this has much value, as it stands. Certainly, all this doesn’t portend the end of the relationship between us, it will continue on, and I will try to continue our friendship, but certainly I will not relate to her secretly as a beloved, but rather like a regular friend – – –

How impetuous I am! How rash! – – –

I face difficult hours of sadness every day and especially at night. I feel terrible sorrow, and my sorrow senses me… What prolonged and difficult sadness, what fatigue and despair from everything fills my heart. My heart weeps secretly inside me about the disaster that we encountered and the terrible tragedy that now governs the life of our family; this tragedy is not now singular, because with every step and pace another just like it [appears] and perhaps worse many times over, and each and every one feels like a sharp and awful barb. Is it possible to find comfort? Can the heart possibly relax? No! In no way, no! Thus, my heart will cry in secret without stopping, and thus it will be torn to pieces, to pieces. –––

~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~

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***

[December 25, 1915] Saturday night (“motzei Shabbat”),^[113a] 18th of [the month of] Tevet, 5676, in the terrible period, in the village of Hubyn [Pershyi]

“In those days”^[113b] – when I was still in Father’s house, when I was still living in our nest, the nest of my homeland, the idyllic humble nest that developed over dozens of years- I wanted to describe my spiritual character, my spiritual outlook with these words: “the friendly loner” – with these two words I once expressed [my outlook] from an autobiographical section when I began writing “some pages from the life of one Israeli (Jewish) young man;” If indeed my spiritual essence is distilled in these two words – I don’t know – there are too many different variations in my moods at different hours and moments, too much abundance negates their colors, during deep self-examination; but there is no doubt that these two words frequently express a dimension of my mood [102] because apparently I love company, but, what is the concealed mood that tweaks my heart frequently, when I find myself in a group of friends that is truly a little far from my world, but nonetheless is it possible to spend time in her their company for some hours? What is the inner feeling that distinguishes me from other people?

Whenever I find myself in a group of cheerful people, singing, playing music – I am sad at the sight of these people being satisfied with inconsequential stuff – these are their lives, my emotive spirit begins to rise upwards, far from the position of these people and aspires to something more elevated, something purer and lofty, for feelings more refined and less crass…

But then does my heart understand? No! Is it possible that it will stay this way?

I found myself in this kind of situation today. Ha, if only I was able to express in words all that happened during the hours of the present day. I am not proud of this. But now I see how rich is the spirit of the poet, how wonderful his worlds, if a meager inconsequential thing interests my heart, [and] pours exalted and lofty emotions. –– All day long, I didn’t find refuge. I wasn’t able to sit still in one place. From house to house I went, and each time it seemed to me: this is not the spot; I need to go there… etc. What unique feeling filled my being. I couldn’t stay or spend time in a group of people who are alien to my spirit and who don’t understand me even a little… Today I felt that my heart, the heart of the poet beating inside… that I was swept away into the vacuous life, chasing adolescent matters with the ardor of my youth,.. trying to draw closer to the practical life, is it not so that some other feeling attacked me? None of the desires of youth appeal to me, I prefer to be alone with my thoughts, the thoughts of the poet. Because what are the life concerns of these children, whose circle of gaze is so narrow, whose horizon of imagination is so narrow?

What idealistic lofty feelings fill my soul, religious feelings, national feelings, and personal feelings about my personal situation but elevated and lofty… Accompanying all these harmonious feelings and a multitude more that I can’t name or remember, is a deep, profound worry for the bitter present situation of our family, and all this consolidates into a complete harmony, that can’t develop inside me in the company of people, only in sitting and going alone, by myself. [103] Please see the miracle, the great change that arrives in my spiritual being. This is nothing but a true spark of poetic feeling flickering deep in my soul: Yes, a few days earlier I went crazy with lovesickness. I didn’t restrain my excessive rashness, and this young woman caused me much regret. And today, does [even] a shadow of a thought arise in my mind about drawing near to the entire fairer sex? If “she” [meaning the fairer sex] in all likelihood draws close to me, speaks to my heart, why am I so glum and sad, why shouldn’t I be attracted to her? Yes, just a few days ago I was subjected for a day to a depressing mood only on her behalf?... And today I didn’t pay attention even to her? … because the impulsive way is vanity and one guarding his soul will be wary of her path…

Look, my brother is also glum and always irritated, especially by this present situation. I also see him swept away a bit by the flow of local company, his appearance flush with adolescence etc. Look even him, and I – steadfast in my resistance, none of this captures my heart. I float in my imagination to other worlds, more elevated.

Experiencing this state of mind these few days I thought about writing a poem called “To the Dreamers,” that points out the character of dreamers scattered among human society, a few there and a few here here; they are alone and solitary, they are like wandering strangers and deep inside them they sustain a rich, variegated world, but they are strange to the people around them and they discount them and don’t understand them,… I began the poem which so far contains only two lines.^[114] In recent days, a significant religious sentiment intensified in me, unlike any I felt yet in my life. What a holy song, a song of prayer to God, the God of Israel, the God of Zion – bubbles deep inside me.

The more I delve into the character of my soul, the more I hear the sounds of song, the elevated song of prayer to the God of life. I love to focus in my prayer in the morning, in the morning, and to pour my words in prayer before the everlasting Lord; at nightfall I pray the evening prayer with grief, and my soul is entirely prayer, prayer, prayer clear and pure for the Creator of the world, to the Lord of all creatures, to the One who leads the world, who is One, – and there is none other, and he directs his creatures. A song, a lofty religious song, fills my entire being!... [104] Sitting alone today near sunset [near the end of the Sabbath] in the home of Shlomo Burshtak, I ate some cake they offered me, and I remembered the time that dear Father would sing the pleasant melodies of the three meals [for the Sabbath]^[115] and I also began to sing…I wanted to perform all of it for myself, and I quietly replayed^[115a] for myself the pleasant religious songs, the tunes of the three [Sabbath] meals, and what soft stinging sadness filled my spirit, and what tender religious satisfaction caressed and the pain of the memories nipped… thus I sang to myself, and my heart ha! Where is the pen [on the Sabbath]^[115b] you use to describe what is going on inside? But just now the group of friends entered the home of Shlomo, and my melodies ceased; they disturbed me. I was spending time alone, my spirit was free, and now they came and interrupted…

I regretfully stopped my rendition. I entered the second room so they wouldn’t disturb me, to the second room and I prayed the evening prayer…the prayer was so pleasant, charming me, capturing my heart and the words so sad and fine: … “ He rolls the light away from before darkness, and darkness from before light; He causes day to pass and brings night, [and separates between day and night;] Lord of Hosts is His Name. The living and enduring God will always reign over us forever and ever. Blessed are You, Lord, who brings on evening.”^[115c]

“The living and enduring God!” May You rule always, always over me, and influence me by your exalted and noble splendor.– – –

How difficult, woe difficult, are the pains of expressing [oneself]. Yes, my spirit today is so rich, so multi-nuanced. And did I convey even one tiny tidbit [of my feelings?] How rich I am today in spirit! Yet how impoverished and unelaborated, even a tiny bit, is my present [diary] entry concerning my state of mind…

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Notes

[113a] [Translator’s comment:] Here Yitzhak writes on Saturday night after the Sabbath has ended. He refers to this time as “motzei Shabbat” the “going out of the Sabbath” using religious, halachic language. This differs from his description of Saturday night in other entries where he has called it night of day 1 (following the Jewish way of reckoning new days as starting in the evening). The use of the term “motzei Shabbat” here may reflect his increasing religious sensibility which he writes about in this essay. Yitzhak here labels Saturday night (“motzei Shabbat”) with the same date (the 18th of Tevet) as the Sabbath day itself, rather than the date for the start of day 1 of the week (the 19th of Tevet) which begins on Saturday night in traditional Jewish reckoning. Though he sometimes appears to be using civil conceptions (the night belongs to the day) here it seems likely he is probably being influenced by Jewish religious sentiment that the end of the Sabbath glow lingers on and he thinks of the night as still basking in the Sabbath experience. See other entries on Saturday night: on Nov. 20, 1915 where like here he uses the term “motzei Shabbat” (after the Sabbath) to mean Saturday night and Aug. 8, 1914 where he refers to Saturday night as “night of day 1” and discussion in footnote 50a there. See also Aug. 21, 1915, where he refers to “night of day 1” and apparently means Sunday night, not Saturday night, using concepts from the civil way of reckoning. An example of an ambiguity whether he is using traditional or civilian concepts of days and nights, during the week see Aug. 16, 1914 and note 57a. [HS] ↩

[113b] [Translator’s comment:] Perhaps an allusion to the first words of the second Hanukkah blessing when lighting the menorah: “who performed wondrous deeds for our ancestors in those days.” [HS] ↩

[114] The poem didn’t survive and it is not known if was completed. ↩

[115] Traditional songs that accompany the three Sabbath meals. [Translator’s comment:] It seems that Yitzhak is thinking especially of the special melodies and songs traditionally sung at the third meal (seudah shelishit) near the end of the Sabbath. [HS] ↩

[115a] [Translator’s comment:] The Hebrew terms used in this paragraph from the stem niggēn usually carry the connotation of playing music. There is no indication here that Yitzhak has an instrument and so it appears he is using the term to mean sing or replay. [HS] ↩

[115b] [Translator’s comment:] I assume Yitzhak is pointing out that it is the Sabbath when it is forbidden to write and therefore he can’t write down his feelings.[HS] ↩

[115c] [Translator’s comment:] First blessing before the Shema prayer in the evening Maariv service. [HS] ↩

***

[December 26, 1915] Sunday night, 20th of [the month of] Tevet, 5676, in the terrible period, in the village of Hubyn Pershyi

I didn’t intend to write now at all. But let me write the following few words. Yes, my heart is so bitter, so depressed. I will write what is possible. My state of mind is as I mentioned in my previous entries already – it continued to be bad in recent days, and you don’t have any day when my sorrow and grief is not more intense than another. A difficult and terrible black bitterness descends over me. I am reminded of the situation of my parents and our deal family members – my heart is depleted from all the sorrow. Where are they? How are they? Do they have enough to eat? Do they have the strength to bear the terrible sorrow that followed the separation between us, not knowing how each other is? [105] and my sorrow increased many times over, and my spirit became depressed many times over, in recalling how distant still is the end of the war of blood, and who knows how long we will live and not see our beloved ones. One day follows another, week follows week, time does not stand still, slowly, slowly one begins to sense the preparation for the festival of Passover [in the air], and when hearing talk of this festival, my hair bristled from fear and sadness. Ha, Lord of the Universe! And us? Will we indeed continue to roll about a foreign country? And our beloved parents? – – –Is the end of the War indeed so far away?! Difficult passing notions and terrible thoughts don’t give me rest, and bitter stinging despair robs me of my rest. Ha! My God, My God, where is the strength to bear so much? How shall the heart not be horrified from all the pain and remorse? – –

And thus tonight I wrote a poem in jargon [i.e. Yiddish]^[116] that expresses the entire terrible state of my mind, my strong longing for our parents and our family, and bitter terrible anguish.

It is possible that I again will return to this matter of my poem in my diary.

__________

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Notes

[116] Jargon, meaning in Yiddish. One poem of Lamdan’s in Yiddish survived: “Quiter, Quieter…” It remained handwritten in the possession of Benjamin Walter from Berestechko and published in the [Hebrew] book, “There was a Small Town…” p. 441. [Translator’s comment]: See my interpretive summary for a discussion of Yitzhak’s use of Yiddish at this moment. [HS] ↩

***

Translated by Howard I. Schwartz
Updated: November 2025
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The Diary of Yitzhak Lamdan (A Translation)

Translation of Diary Entries in Notebook 2

Diary 2 (July 1915 - March 1916)

July - December 1915

January - March 1916

The Context of Diary 2

My Diary[+]

Yitzhak Lamdan[1]

July 1915

[July 25,[1a] 1915, Sunday, 14th of Menachem Av, 5675, Mlynov]

[July 28, 1915] Wednesday in the morning, 17th of Menachem Av [5675] in the terrible period, Mlynov

August 1915

[August 10, 1915] Tuesday night,[14a] 1st of [the month of] Elul in the terrible period, 5675, Mlynov

[August 11, 1915] Thursday night, 2nd of [the month of] Elul, in the terrible period, Mlynov

[August 17, 1915] Tuesday evening, 8th of [the month of] Elul, in the terrible period, Mlynov

[August 21, 1915] Saturday night[?],[19a] 13th [should be the 12th] [of month of] Elul in the terrible period, Mlynov

[August 26, 1915] Thursday, 16th of Elul, in the terrible period, 5675, Mlynov

September 1915

[September 3, 1915] Friday (Sabbath Eve / “Erev Shabbat”), 24th of Elul, in the terrible period, 5675, Dubno[23]

[September 5, 1915] Sunday, 26th of Elul, 5675, in the terrible period, Dubno

[September 8, 1915] [Wednesday] Eve of [of the holiday of] Rosh Hashana [the Jewish New Year] , in the terrible period, Dubno

[September 13, 1915] Monday, 5th of [the month of ] Tishrei 5676, in the terrible period, Dubna

[September 15, 1915] Wednesday, 7th of [the month of] Tishrei, 5676, in the terrible period Mlynov[38a] Dubno

[September 19, 1915] Sunday, 11th of [the month of] Tishrei, 5676, in the terrible period, in the forest of Nochitz [now Nadchytsi, Ukraine][41]

[September 21, 1915] Tuesday, 13th of [the month of] Tishrei, 5676, in the terrible period, in the forest of Notzitz [Nadchytsi, Ukraine]

[September 26, 1915] Sunday, Sukkot [the Festival of Booths],[46a] the 2nd [3rd?][46b] of the intermediate days of Sukkot ("Chol HaMoed Sukkot"), 5676, in the terrible period, in the forest of Notzitz [Nadchytsi, Ukraine]

[September 27, 1915] Monday, 3rd[49a] [day] of the intermediate days of the Festival of Booths (Chol HaMoed Sukkot), 5676, in the terrible period, in the forest of Notzitz [Nadchytsi, Ukraine]

[September 29, 1915] The [festival day of] Hoshana Rabbah,[51b] [Wednesday, 21st of Tishrei], 5676, in the terrible period, in the forest of Notzitz [Nadchytsi, Ukraine]

October 1915

[October 4, 1915] Monday, 26th [of the month of] Tishrei, 5676, in the terrible period, in the forest of Notzitz [Nadchytsi, Ukraine]

[October 7, 1915] Thursday, 29th of Tishrei, 5676, in the terrible period, Lutsk

[October 8, 1915] Sabbath Eve, [Friday, 30th of Tishrei] 1st day of the new month of Cheshvan, in the terrible period, in the city of Lutsk

[October 10, 1915] Sunday, 2nd of [the month of] Cheshvan, 5676, in the terrible period, Lutsk

[October 13, 1915] Wednesday, 5th of [the month of] Cheshvan, in the terrible period, in the village of Hubyn [now Hubyn Pershyi, Ukraine]

[October 16, 1915] Saturday night,[74b] 9th of [the month of] Cheshvan, in the terrible period, in the village of Hubyn [Pershyi]

Notes

[October 26, 1915] Tuesday night, 19th of [the month of] Cheshvan, in the terrible period, in the village of Hubyn [Hubyn Pershyi]

[October 27, 1915] Wednesday night, 20th of [the month of] Marcheshvan,[84a] in the terrible period, in the village of Hubyn [Pershyi]

November 1915

[November 2, 1915] Tuesday night,[85c] 27th [25th][85d] of [the month of] Marcheshvan, 5676, in the terrible period, in the village of Hubyn [Pershyi]

[November 12, 1915] Friday morning, 5th of [the month of] Kislev, [90] 5676, in the terrible period, in the village of Hubyn [Pershyi]

[November 16, 1915] Tuesday night, 10th of [the month of] Kislev, 5676, in the terrible period, in the village of Hubyn [Pershyi]

[November 20, 1915] Saturday night [after the Sabbath ends], 13th [14th][94b] of [the month of] Kislev, 5676, in the terrible period, in the village of Hubyn [Pershyi]

[November 23, 1915] Tuesday night, 17th of [the month of] Kislev, 5675,[94e] in the terrible period, in the village of Hubyn [Pershyi]

[November 30 1915 (probably Nov. 29th) [98c]] Monday night (lel yom gimel), 23rd of [the month of] Kislev, in the terrible period, in the village of Hubyn

[December 3, 1915] Sabbath eve [Friday], first day (first),[100c] second [day] of Hanukkah [26th of Kislev], 5676, in the terrible period, in the village of Hubyn [Pershyi]

[December 7, 1915] Seventh night of Hanukkah, 5676, in the terrible period, in the village of Hubyn [Pershyi]

[December 11,1915] Saturday night (lel yom aleph), 5th of [the month of] Tevet, 5676, in the village of Hubyn [Pershyi], in the terrible period

[December 12, 1915] Sunday night (lel yom bet),[110a] 6th of [the month of] Tevet, in the terrible period, in the village of Hubyn Pershyi

[December 18, 1915] Saturday night (motzei Shabbat), 11th of Tevet,[110b] 5676, in the terrible period, in the village of Hubyn [Pershyi]

[December 19, 1915] Sunday night, 13th of [the month of] Tevet, in the terrible period, in the village of Hubyn [Pershyi]

[December 22, 1915] Wednesday night, 16th of [the month of] Tevet, 5676, in the terrible period, in the village of Hubyn [Pershyi]

[December 25, 1915] Saturday night (“motzei Shabbat”),[113a] 18th of [the month of] Tevet, 5676, in the terrible period, in the village of Hubyn [Pershyi]

[December 26, 1915] Sunday night, 20th of [the month of] Tevet, 5676, in the terrible period, in the village of Hubyn Pershyi

The Diary of Yitzhak Lamdan

(A Translation)

My Diary^[+]

Yitzhak Lamdan^[1]

[July 25,^[1a] 1915, Sunday, 14th of Menachem Av, 5675, Mlynov]

[August 10, 1915] Tuesday night,^[14a] 1st of [the month of] Elul in the terrible period, 5675, Mlynov

[August 21, 1915] Saturday night[?],^[19a] 13th [should be the 12th] [of month of] Elul in the terrible period, Mlynov

[September 3, 1915] Friday (Sabbath Eve / “Erev Shabbat”), 24th of Elul, in the terrible period, 5675, Dubno^[23]

[September 15, 1915] Wednesday, 7th of [the month of] Tishrei, 5676, in the terrible period Mlynov^[38a] Dubno

[September 19, 1915] Sunday, 11th of [the month of] Tishrei, 5676, in the terrible period, in the forest of Nochitz [now Nadchytsi, Ukraine]^[41]

[September 26, 1915] Sunday, Sukkot [the Festival of Booths],^[46a] the 2nd [3rd?]^[46b] of the intermediate days of Sukkot ("Chol HaMoed Sukkot"), 5676, in the terrible period, in the forest of Notzitz [Nadchytsi, Ukraine]

[September 27, 1915] Monday, 3rd^[49a] [day] of the intermediate days of the Festival of Booths (Chol HaMoed Sukkot), 5676, in the terrible period, in the forest of Notzitz [Nadchytsi, Ukraine]

[September 29, 1915] The [festival day of] Hoshana Rabbah,^[51b] [Wednesday, 21st of Tishrei], 5676, in the terrible period, in the forest of Notzitz [Nadchytsi, Ukraine]

[October 16, 1915] Saturday night,^[74b] 9th of [the month of] Cheshvan, in the terrible period, in the village of Hubyn [Pershyi]

[October 27, 1915] Wednesday night, 20th of [the month of] Marcheshvan,^[84a] in the terrible period, in the village of Hubyn [Pershyi]

[November 2, 1915] Tuesday night,^[85c] 27th [25th]^[85d] of [the month of] Marcheshvan, 5676, in the terrible period, in the village of Hubyn [Pershyi]

[November 12, 1915] Friday morning, 5th of [the month of] Kislev, ^[90] 5676, in the terrible period, in the village of Hubyn [Pershyi]

[November 20, 1915] Saturday night [after the Sabbath ends], 13th [14th]^[94b] of [the month of] Kislev, 5676, in the terrible period, in the village of Hubyn [Pershyi]

[November 23, 1915] Tuesday night, 17th of [the month of] Kislev, 5675,^[94e] in the terrible period, in the village of Hubyn [Pershyi]

[November 30 1915 (probably Nov. 29th) ^[98c]] Monday night (lel yom gimel), 23rd of [the month of] Kislev, in the terrible period, in the village of Hubyn

[December 3, 1915] Sabbath eve [Friday], first day (first),^[100c] second [day] of Hanukkah [26th of Kislev], 5676, in the terrible period, in the village of Hubyn [Pershyi]

[December 12, 1915] Sunday night (lel yom bet),^[110a] 6th of [the month of] Tevet, in the terrible period, in the village of Hubyn Pershyi

[December 18, 1915] Saturday night (motzei Shabbat), 11th of Tevet,^[110b] 5676, in the terrible period, in the village of Hubyn [Pershyi]

[December 25, 1915] Saturday night (“motzei Shabbat”),^[113a] 18th of [the month of] Tevet, 5676, in the terrible period, in the village of Hubyn [Pershyi]