Four Songs
Published in Issue #12 Translated from French by Robert Bononno subscribe to unlock the full storyI know nothing about Konsk.
In winter, on the outskirts of Konsk, there were wolves. And therefore forests.
Simon and his sister Matl got around in a wagon and held lit torches to scare away the wolves. The horse balked, refusing to take a step further. Sometimes an eagle approached. The children clapped their hands.
I know nothing about Konsk.
Winters were hard. Even under the thick quilt it was cold. The mothers rubbed their children’s feet to warm them. Then the men returned from the taverns. Were there taverns in Konsk?
I know so little.
Simon, who was reading the newspaper to his drowsy father whose head was in his arms and whose arms were on the table, remarked in the same tone. And so? Is that good for us?
There were foxes at night in the streets of Konsk.
And cats. And chickens.
I know nothing.
One day my uncle Noioch Oksenberg told me the following story:
It took place during the engagement of the daughter of Chaim Mandelswagg (for the older daughter, God have pity on her, they never found a suitor) with the only son of the well-known restaurateur Moishe Katz. No, wait a minute, not Moishe, Mendel, Mendel Katz. Mendel Katz, that’s right. All the customary vows had been recited, the glasses broken and crushed underfoot, when your grandfather, Simon, who had just gotten engaged himself a few weeks earlier to my sister Matl, stood up, put down his glass of vodka (sent by the father of the fiancé, Mr. Katz himself), and announced his wish to tell...
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