We! We! That is no reason. We came here. There was nothing—absolutely nothing. Now we are an example. Our sweat and our blood and our work is in that. That about immediate and permanent advantage I understand not. Perhaps you understand better.
“As for Dr. Geyer that is important. What he formerly was, that is also important; but now he has the right the same as us. What we made with our hands must remain ours. We won’t allow it to be taken away by anyone. So! More I haven’t got to say.”
The sentiment met with much approval, although out of respect for the visitors there was no great applause. Mendel was followed by David Litvak. An earnest look settled on his face as much moved he began:
“Friends! You will listen to me. You know I am of your blood; like you I have worked on the soil at my father’s side. I have raised myself somewhat higher, but I know the sorrows and the joys of the laborer. I know what you need; therefore I say to you Mendel is not right.”
(To be continued.)
An Early Zionist Poem
THE subjoined poem is a translation of Karl Isidor Beck’s “Das junge Palästina,” fifth song, which was composed at some time between 1835 and 1838. Beck was born in Baja, Hungary, May 1, 1817, of Jewish parents. He became a member of the Reformed Evangelical Church at Pest, May 27, 1843, and died at Währing, near Vienna, April 9, 1879. Rudolph von Gottschall,* a great admirer of Beck’s poetry, says: “. . . In these days of anti-Semitic machination, this poem would indeed be put in the Index librorum prohibitorum.” The first four songs describe the condition of the Jews at the time. To the whole the following somewhat singular motto is prefixed:
“Zum Kreuze kam er stürmisch hingelaufen, Von dem der Freiheit Blut in Strömen fuhr. Zum Christen wollte sich der Jude taufen Mit dieser Liebesthräme der Natur.
New Palestine†
KARL ISIDOR BECK.
Land of wonders! Land of dreams! I greet thee in my song! Thy cedars stand; the sea Doth beat against thy shore enraged. But thy heroes all are dead, And thy prophet speaks no more, And the last song of thy harpist Has ta’en wings and died away.
There, the smoke doth greet the air! Doth priest stand before the altar? No, indeed; the sacrifice The Turk doth bring insultingly. Blow the circlings of the smoke High up to the arched vault, Cast the ashes from the pipe On the ashes of—a world.
* "Studien zur neuen deutschen Litteratur," Berlin, 1892, 2d ed., p. 287. Gottschalk, who was best qualified, to speak, gives the date of death as above. April 10, 1879, is incorrectly given in "Jewish Encyclopedia," New York 1902, v. ii, p. 622a.
† The entire poem is supposed to be recited by the famous Ludwig Börne.