Chapter 13 A Tale of Love and Darkness (13)

His close friend Joseph Kohentek translated these poems into Hebrew, for example: "After many years of sleep / O God of mercy, I arise; / My eyelids opened with love / Three more days to live. /From one end to the other/Let me walk through the land of my ancestors/Let me walk in every hill and valley/To see her beauty/Everyone will live here safely/Under figs and vines,/The earth gives gifts,/ Joy permeates my native land..." He wrote hymns of praise to Vladimir Jabotinsky, Menachem Begin, or his famous brother, my great-uncle Joseph; Against the Germans, the Arabs, the British, and everyone else who hates the Jews.In all these poems I also found three or four poems of solitude and sorrow, with lines like this: "Thoughts so dark surround me / In the nights of my life: / Farewell to the vigor of youth / Farewell to the sunshine The hope that lies down—/What remains is the cold winter..." But it is not usually the cold winter that bothers him.He was a nationalist, a patriot, a lover of arms, victory, and conquest, a passionate and innocent hawk.He firmly believed that if we Jews would adorn ourselves with courage, fearlessness, iron resolve, etc., if we would rise up at last to fear no strangers, we would be able to defeat all our enemies, from the Nile to the great Euphrates, and to establish Starting from the Kingdom of David, the entire world of cruel and evil aliens will come to worship before us.He had a taste for things that were lofty, powerful, and radiant—garments, brass horns, banners and spears that gleamed in the sun, royal palaces, and armaments.He is a child of the nineteenth century, even though he lived a long time and saw three quarters of the twentieth century.As I recall, he was wearing a light beige flannel suit, or else a crisp, thin-striped suit.He sometimes wore, conspicuously, under his suits, an inside-sewn waistcoat, and around his waist was a dainty silver chain that slipped into the waistcoat pocket.In summer he wore a loosely woven straw hat and in winter a bolsalino with a black ribbon.He was irritable, in danger of a sudden thunderous rage, but soon beamed again, apologizing, asking forgiveness, expressing contrition, as if his anger were nothing but fits of violent coughing.You can understand his mood at a glance from a long distance, because his face changes like a signal light: pink, white, red, and back to pink.Most of the time, his cheeks are a contented pink, but when he is offended, they turn pale, and when he is angry, they turn red, but after a while, they return to pink, which is equivalent to announcing to the world The thunderstorm is over, the winter is over, the flowers are blooming, and Grandpa's habitual joy is shining again after a brief hiatus.

In a moment he would completely forget who and why had provoked him, what the storm was all about, like a child who cries for a while and then calms down, smiles, and is happy to play again.Laf Alexander Giskind of Laf Alexander Horodno (then in Russia, then in Poland, now in Belarus) died in 1794.He was a mystic, Kabbalist, ascetic, and author of several influential works of ethics.It is said that "he secluded himself in a small room all his life and studied the Torah; he never kissed or disciplined his children, and never had a conversation with them on non-religious subjects".His wife alone supports the family and raises the children.However, the eminent ascetic taught that one should "worship God with great joy and zeal." (Rabbi Nahman of Bratslav says he was an avant-garde Hasidi.) But neither joy nor zeal prevented Rabbi Alexander Kiskind from renouncing the wish that he die Finally, "The Funeral Association will entrust the Sanhedrin to punish my body with four deaths until all limbs are crushed."For example, "Order to lift me up to the roof, throw me to the ground with all my might, don't put bed sheets or straw, and order me to repeat this seven times. I solemnly warn the funeral association that, suffering from the pain of being excommunicated, I will use seven deaths to pay for it." Torture me, do not spare me my humiliation, for humiliation is my honor, and spare me some of the great punishment of heaven."All these can atone or purify "the spirit or heart of Alexander Giskind, born of the woman Rebekah."Another famous anecdote is that he roamed from small town to small town in Germany, raised money for Jewish settlement in holy places, and was even imprisoned for it.

His descendant's surname is Blaze, which is an abbreviation for "Born of Alexander Kiskind Rabbi".His son Ralph Yosel Blaze, one of the children whose father never kissed and disciplined, was regarded as the most righteous man, who studied the Torah all day long and never left his study during the working day , didn't even go to sleep.He allowed himself to sit there, head on his arms, arms on the table, and sleep three or four hours at night, with a candle between his fingers that would wake him when it burned out.Even his snacks were sent to the study, and he left the study only when the Sabbath approached, and returned as soon as the Sabbath was over.Like his father, he was also an ascetic.His wife, who owned a drapery shop, supported him and his children until his death, as well as his mother during her lifetime, as Ralph Yosele was too humble to allow himself the position of rabbi , but he taught the Torah to poor children without receiving any payment.He didn't write a book, because he thought he was mediocre and not suitable to talk about new things that hadn't been said before him.The son of Raf Josele, Raf Alexander Giskind Blaze (grandfather of my grandfather Alexander) was a successful businessman, dealing in grain, flax, and even bristles, to Königsberg, Danzig and Leipzig, etc. to do trade.He was a strict observant Jew, but he was known to distance himself from the fanaticism of his grandfather and father.

He wasn't socially alien, didn't live off the sweat of his wife's brow, didn't hate the Zeitgeist and the Enlightenment.He allowed his children to learn Russian, German, and a bit of "foreign wisdom," and even encouraged his daughter, Lasha Kayla Blaze, to study, read, and be an intellectual woman.He certainly didn't warn the funeral society with dire threats to smash his body up after his death.Menaheim Mendler Blaze, son of Alexander Giskind, grandson of Ralph Yosseler, great-grandson of Alexander Kiskind Rabbi, author of The Foundation and Root of Worship, Settled in Odessa in the 1880s and opened a small glass factory with his wife Parla.Before that, when he was young, he worked as a government clerk in Königsberg.Menaheim Braz was rich, handsome, well-fed, strong-willed, and nonconformist, even by the very tolerant standards of late-nineteenth-century Jewish Odessa.An unabashed atheist, a noted hedonist, he loathed both religion and fanaticism with the same degree of wholeheartedness that his grandfather and great-grandfather obeyed even the slightest bit of the law.Menaheim Blaze was a free thinker when it came to expressing himself.He smokes in public on the Sabbath, eats forbidden foods wildly, and pursues pleasure out of a gloomy view of the shortness of life and out of fierce opposition to the afterlife and divine judgment.This admirer of Epicurus and Voltaire believed that man should reach out and take what life offered him, and give himself up to the unbridled happiness that his heart longed for, and in so doing he would suffer neither harm nor injustice. Suffering does not cause suffering to others.His older sister Lasa Keira, the educated daughter of Raf Alexander Kiskind Braz, was engaged to a simple Jew in the Lithuanian village of Olkeniki (not far from Vilna) by the name of Yehuda Leif Klausner, son of Yehez Kyle Klausner, a sharecropper. The Klausners of Olkeniki are not as learned as they are in the nearby town of Trakai. The talented cousins ​​are basically simple country Jews, stubborn and naive.Ezyeker Klausner raised cattle and sheep, and grew fruit and vegetables, first in a village called Popishuk (or Papischki), then in the village of Rudnik, and finally in Orr Keniki Village.

All three villages are very close to Vilna.Yehuda Leif, like his father, Yehezkel, only learned a little Torah and Talmud from the village teachers and obeyed the precepts, but he didn't like the subtleties of hermeneutics.He loves the outdoors and hates being confined indoors.誗①The name is still used in the family.My oldest daughter took my mother's name Fania and my son is named Daniela Yehuda Aliye after my oldest cousin Daniela Klausner and my father Yehuda Ariel Klausner's name.Daniela Klausner, who was one year older than me, was murdered by the Germans in Vilna when she was three years old, along with her father David and mother Marka.My father, Yehuda Arie Klausner, was named after his grandfather, Yehuda Leif Klausner, who was born in the village of Olkeniki, Lithuania, Yehuda Leff Klaus Nana son of Leif Yerhez Kyle, Leif Yeherhez Kyle son of Leif Kadish, Leif Kadish Nair Leif Jedalia Klaus Son of Na-Orkeniki, descendant of Rabbi Abraham Klausner, author of the Book of Customs and Habits.Rabbi Abraham Klausner lived in Vienna at the end of the fourteenth century.My brother David was named after Uncle David, my father's brother, the man who was killed by the Germans in Vilna.My three grandchildren are named after their grandfather (Macgabe Salzberg) and grandmother (Lotte Salzberg, Riva Zuckerman).He tried to run produce, but was unsuccessful.This is because other businessmen quickly discovered and took advantage of his naivety, driving him out of the market.Yehuda Leif used the rest of the money to buy a horse and a carriage, and happily transported passengers and goods from village to village.He was an easy-going, even-tempered coachman, content with his status quo, fond of good food, singing at the table on Sabbaths and festivals, and drinking a glass of schnapps on winter evenings.He never beat his horse, defying hardships and dangers.He likes to travel alone, walking slowly and easily.His wagon carried trees and sacks of grain through dark forests, open plains, through violent snowstorms, and through the thin layer of ice that covered the river in winter.

Once the ice broke under the heavy wagon (hence Grandpa Alexander's fondness for referring to winter nights over and over again), Yehuda Leif would jump into the icy water, grab the bridle with his strong, powerful hands, and turn the horse Pull the car to a safe place.Rasha Keira bore three sons and three daughters to her coachman husband.But when she fell seriously ill in 1884, the Klausner family decided to leave the remote Lithuanian countryside and travel hundreds of miles to Odessa, where Raza Kela was born and where her wealthy brother lived .Menaheim Mendler Blaze would certainly take care of them, making sure that his sick sister received the best possible care.When the Klausner family settled in Odessa in 1885, their eldest son, my great-uncle Joseph, was an eleven-year-old child prodigy, hard-working by nature, fond of Hebrew, and eager for knowledge.He seemed more like his cousin, the sharp-minded Klausner of Trakai, than his ancestor, the Olkeniki peasant and coachman.His uncle, Menaheim Blaze, an admirer of Epicurus and Voltaire, declared that little Joseph was destined for greatness and sponsored his education.But his younger brother, Alexander Kiskind, was about four when they moved to Odessa, a somewhat difficult, emotional child who soon showed signs of being like his grandfather and father's country Klausners. tendency.His mind is not on reading, he likes to stay outside for a long time since he was a child, observing people's behavior, appreciating and feeling the world, staying alone in the grass and woods, falling into many dreams.Lively, generous, kind, and lovable, everyone called him Zucia or Zissel.That is Grandpa Alexander.They also have a younger brother, my great-uncle Bizarel, and three sisters Sofia, Anna and Dahlia, none of whom came to Israel.

What I can confirm now is that Sophia was a literature teacher after the Russian "October Revolution", and later became the principal of a middle school in Leningrad.Anna died before World War II, and Daria, or Davola, tried to escape to Palestine with her husband Misha after the revolution, but was "detained" in Kyiv because Daria was pregnant.When the Klausners first came to town, it was tough, despite the help of the thriving Uncle Mennerheim and the rest of the Blazs family's relatives in Odessa.Coachman Yehuda Leff, a strong, life-loving, joking and tough man, had to use up his savings to buy a small, unventilated grocery store to support his precarious family, and then his health gradually deteriorated. decline.He missed the open plains, the forests, the snowfields, his horse and cart, the country inns and rivers of Lithuania from which he had left.A few years later, he fell ill and soon died in his crappy little shop at the age of fifty-seven.His widow, Rasha Keira, survived him for twenty-five years before finally dying in Jerusalem's Bukhara district in 1928.While Uncle Joseph was pursuing brilliant studies in Odessa and later in Heidelberg, Grandpa Alexander dropped out of school at the age of fifteen, started a small business, bought something here and sold it there, and wrote passionate Russian poems at night , looking greedily at shop windows, at piles of melons, grapes, and watermelons, at lascivious southern women, hurrying home to write another emotional poem, and then on the streets of Odessa Turn around, carefully dressed to the fullest, smoke like a grown-up, black beard carefully waxed.Sometimes he went to the port to enjoy watching the steamers, stevedores and cheap whores, or he was excited to watch a procession of soldiers go by to the music, and sometimes he would spend an hour or two in the library, hungry for whatever he got. Reading, determined not to compete with elder brother's penchant for reading.

At the same time, he learned how to dance with educated young women, how to drink a few glasses of brandy and still be wise, how to befriend people in cafes, how to please dogs, in order to please the ladies.He wandered the sunny streets of Odessa, where the styles of several nationalities gave this port city a strong exotic flavor.He met all kinds of friends, courted girls, did some small business and sometimes made a profit, sat in the corner of a cafe or on a bench in a park, took out his notebook and wrote a poem (four stanzas, eight rhymes) , and then started wandering around again, in Odessa, where there was no telephone, working as an unpaid boy servant for the leaders of the Love of Zion Association-taking urgent mail from Ahad Haam to Mendler Mokai Severim, either from Mendler Mokel Sefrim to the wisecracking Mr. Bialik or Menaheim Yusyshkinson, or from From Mr. Yusyshkin to Lilienbloom.As he waited for an answer in the lounge or the hall, Russian poems that reflected the spirit of Zion's sports surged in his heart: the streets of Jerusalem were paved with agate and beryl, and the eagle stood on the edge of the street. In every corner, the sky shone overhead with the splendor of the Seventh Heaven.He even wrote love poems to the Hebrew language, extolling its beauty and musicality, and illustrating his eternal faith, but all in Russian. (Even after he lived in Jerusalem for more than forty years, his grandfather could not fully grasp Hebrew, and until his deathbed, he spoke personal Hebrew that broke all rhythms, and wrote Hebrew poems Horrible mistake at the time. Shortly before his death, the last postcard he sent us to the Hulda kibbutz read: "My very dear grandchildren and great-grandchildren, I miss you very much. I am very, very You all look!")