Commemorating the Yiddish writers and artists murdered on Aug. 12, 1952

Members of the Jewish Anti-Fascist Committee Photo by Getty Images

By Forverts Staff July 28, 2025

On the night of August 12, 1952, 13 Jewish writers, artists, journalists, and scientists were murdered in Moscow’s infamous Lubyanka Prison. This was the climax to a campaign of repression which started four years before, with the state-sponsored murder of the most prominent Jew in Russia — the legendary actor and activist Solomon Mikhoels.

Mikhoels had led both GOSET — the Yiddish Chamber Theater in Moscow, as well as the Soviet Jewish Anti-Fascist Committee during World War II.

Among the victims of 1952 were five Yiddish writers — David Bergelson, David Hofshteyn, Perets Markish, Itsik Fefer and Lev (Leyb) Kvitko — and Yiddish actor Benjamin Zuskin. Every August 12 in the years since then, Jewish organizations around the world have held commemorative events honoring the victims of that night, along with other victims of Soviet repression.

This year, the Congress for Jewish Culture will present Yelena Shmulenson’s The Night of the Yiddish Poets, which tells the entire story and includes poems by the five poets in the original Yiddish (with English supertitles). Appearing with Shmulenson will be Allen Lewis Rickman, Shane Baker and Suzanne Toren, all of them veteran actors with long lists of credits in both English and Yiddish.

The performance will take place on Tuesday, Aug. 12, 7:30 p.m. at The Wild Project, 195 East Third Street, 10009, between Ave A and Ave B, in New York City. Reservations are suggested. A donation of $15 per person can be given via the Congress for Jewish Culture donation page. Email the number of people attending to [email protected] in order to receive confirmation.

A number of poems written by the murdered Yiddish writers have been translated into English. The following poem was penned by Perets Markish in 1919. It was translated by Daniel Kraft together with an introduction which you can read here.

Don’t know whether I’m home
by Perets Markish

Don’t know whether I’m home
or far away—
I’m running!…
My shirt unbuttoned,
no reins on me,
I’m nobody’s, I am abandoned,
no beginning and no end….

My body is froth,
it smells like wind;

My name is: “Now.”
I throw my hands out
and they strike the edges of the world,
I let my eyes wander
and they drink up the world from top to bottom.

With open eyes, with an unbuttoned shirt,
with hands spread wide—
I don’t know whether I have a home
or have a far away,
whether I am an end or a beginning…