August 27, 1911
I am weak, and my life is unneeded. But I want to believe: work is waiting for me. True, it’s black work--but it is work for Yiddish culture. I want to do it, [to be] in that work. This question will stand before me at every moment: what are you doing to become strong enough for your work?
I will not be one of the creators--I don’t want that. I am a nest for sickness, ugliness, wretchedness. That which is mine, my own, personal can only poison. All of that will pass--praise be God! But lepers too built...the pyramids! Their ugly souls and rotting limbs became bricks, strong and generations old.
My prayer ought read: God, I am a leper--may I be destined to become a slave!
May my prayer and my life be so.