Morris Rosenfeld Poems
- On The Bosom Of The Ocean THE terrible wind, the dangerous ...
- In The Factory Oh, here in the shop the machines roar so ...
- My Boy I have a little boy at home, A pretty little son; I ...
- Liberty When night and silence deep Hold all the world in ...
- I Know Not Why I lift mine eyes against the sky, The clouds...
- I'Ve Often Laughed I've often laughed and oftener still have ...
- A Tree In The Ghetto There stands in th' leafless Ghetto One...
Morris Rosenfeld (Moshe Jacob Alter) (December 28, 1862 in Bokscha in Russian Poland, government of Suwałki – June 22, 1923 in New York) was a Yiddish poet.
His work sheds light on the living circumstances of emigrants from Eastern Europe in New York's tailoring workshops.
He was educated at Boksha, Suwałki, and Warsaw. He worked as a tailor in New York and London and as a diamond cutter in Amsterdam, and settled in New York in 1886, after which he was connected with the editorial staffs of several leading Jewish newspapers. In 1904 he published a weekly entitled Der Ashmedai. In 1905 he was editor of the New Yorker Morgenblatt. He was also the publisher and ... more »
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On The Bosom Of The Ocean
THE terrible wind, the dangerous storm, is
wrestling with a ship on the ocean ; it is trying
to break her, but she in distress cuts through the
deep, groaning heavily.
The mast cracks, the sail trembles, frightful is
the depth of the roaring waters ; the wind struggles
desperately with the ship in a life and death com-
Now she must lie down, now again she must rise,
now she is driven back, now forward ; the ship
is a plaything of the waves that swallow her up and
spit her out again.
The ocean roars, the billows rise, and lash, ...