Manual I Am Lazarus (Peter Owen Modern Classic)

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From: Bartko-Reher Berlin, Germany. About this Item: Condition: Guter Zustand. Marko Rop illustrator. Language: English. Brand new Book. Farmer Gord is a mean old fellow. And his goats coming in second place at the Windrush County Fair has him feeling like they are good for nothing! On the way home from the fair, a spunky goat named Lazarus gets thrown off the back of Farmer Gord's truck.

Anna Kavan

He lands smack-dab in front of a barbershop with a mud-splattered sign that seems to read, "Goat Haircuts! But Lazarus is jolted into action when he discovers that Farmer Gord is about to take his best piglet pals to market for sale! Lazarus has to act fast and get creative. Will he be able to rescue his piglet pals? And can his herd of goat friends help him escape the wrath of ill-tempered Farmer Gord and save the day?. Seller Inventory AAV Paperback or Softback. Seller Inventory BBS Published by Tiny Tiger Publishing About this Item: Tiny Tiger Publishing, New Book.

Shipped from UK. Established seller since Seller Inventory LQ About this Item: Condition: New. Seller Inventory n.


About this Item: Condition: As New. Unread copy in perfect condition. Published by Portable Poetry, United States From an early age, she studied American and British literature, as well as the German, French, and Italian languages. Her early writings attracted the attention of Ralph Waldo Emerson. Emma grew to become not only an important poet but also edited many collections of German poems, including Johann Wolfgang von Goethe and Heinrich Heine, some of which we include in these volumes.

Among her other writings are a novel and two plays in five acts, 'The Spagnoletto', a tragic verse drama and 'The Dance to Death', a dramatization of a German short story about the burning of Jews in Nordhausen during the Black Death. Her interest in her Jewish ancestry grew markedly after reading George Eliot's 'Daniel Deronda', together with the alarming reports of the Russian pogroms following the assassination of Tsar Alexander II in As a result of this appalling anti-Semitic violence, thousands of destitute Ashkenazi Jews left Russia for New York, leading Lazarus to write articles on the subject as well as the book 'Songs of a Semite' She began to help on a more practical level by helping to establish the Hebrew Technical Institute in New York, to provide support, resources and vocational training to help destitute Jewish immigrants become self-supporting.

Emma's best known work is "The New Colossus," a sonnet written in ; its lines appear on a bronze plaque in the pedestal of the Statue of Liberty placed there in It was written for and donated to an auction, conducted by the "Art Loan Fund Exhibition in Aid of the Bartholdi Pedestal Fund for the Statue of Liberty" to raise funds to build the pedestal. In the latter part of her second trip to Europe to , she fell seriously ill, it is thought with Hodgkin's lymphoma, and returned to New York City. Emma Lazarus died two months later on November 19, He would like to let himself go and laugh the exhausted laugh of a man who has been weeping, I think.

The mist of forgetfulness inside me clears at that moment, and I recognize him.

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Yet he looks older than I remember him — and spent in body. Could he be ill? When I reach up to him, intending to test his brow for the heat of fever, he grips my hand and kisses it as if we had been lost to each other for years.

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It is a quote from our favourite verse of Psalm. Where are we? I shape this question with my lips — at least, that is my intent — but for some reason I fail to make myself understood, and Yeshua shows me a puzzled face. I scan the countenances around me and count them — fourteen. Yohanon has had his thick black hair clipped so short that he appears to be wearing an Ionian skullcap. He smiles encouragingly at me through his tears. She is wearing her saffron-coloured robe — a gift from Yeshua — though it looks too large and cumbersome on her. He peers at me as if I might be an impostor.

Could I have changed in some way that makes me seem another man? At the back, taller than all the others, are my Alexandrian cousins, the twins Ion and Ariston. Ion, the bolder of the two, waves at me and grins in his boyish way. Maryam draws my glance from him when she raises her hands and blesses me.

I spot a wine-coloured design of the zodiac on her palm and aim to ask her about it, but all that emerges from me is a dry ratcheting sound. At length, I grow anxious to find my mother and father, but they do not seem to be with us. I know that I am crying only when I taste salt on my lips. The longlimbed woman — whom I now recognize as my sister Mia — takes my hand and places it over her face, breathing in deeply on the scent of me, though she soon starts coughing.

When we were children, she used to say that I smelled like warm barley bread.

I remember that now, and my name, but many other things still escape me. She puts her arm around the old man next to her. She points then to the small tired-looking woman holding a piece of fabric over her mouth. Many friends have come. And your son and daughter. Nahara is trembling. She looks as she does when she has been chased out of sleep by thunder.

Yirmiyahu, her older brother — the long-haired youth with anxious eyes — lifts her up to me. Nahara throws her arms around my neck. Blessed be the kindness of the Lord; as she sobs, I still the shaking in my hand long enough to comb her soft brown hair, though my touch only makes her cry harder. As she sobs, Yirmi eases her despair with endearments, then leans down and presses his lips to both my eyes, which seems his way of linking the three of us together — and an extremely mature gesture for a youth who only reached manhood a few months earlier.

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