Local Lutheran boy finally makes good, sixty years late.

All Americans are immigrants, even the so-called native Americans. There is no such thing as a generic American. And sooner or later, we get interested in our roots and in our stories. We are inspired by stories that tell how pioneer hardships were overcome with successes and sobered by tales of how good times dissolved into meager subsistence. It is comforting to be reminded that this is the land of the free and home of the brave, where the future is always open to new and exciting possibilities.

Of course, life does not turn out well for all immigrants, and sometimes the local boy doesn't make good at all. His health may be poor, his education a dead-end street, his chosen profession hard to realize, his marriage faltering, his professional competence weak, and his progeny dead at his tombstone. That, in fact, is the way it seemed to be for Lutheran immigrant Mato Kosyk (1853-1940) until it was discovered just recently that the folks back home in Europe--those who bade him farewell in 1883 either with great hopes and dreams or with a reprimand for having abandoned the Sorbian cause--are now regarding him as their greatest poet and as one of the three greatest Sorbian writers who ever lived! How is it that we in his adopted country didn't even know about it? We had, in fact, almost totally forgotten the local boy. We hardly even remembered that he studied to be a pastor in Chicago! It is time to catch up with the story and learn how we can celebrate his successes, along with those who are already prep aring the celebration in Europe, and claim him as one of our own.

Wends/Sorbs and their contributions to Lutheran heritage

Most American Lutherans do not know about the Wends/Sorbs and do not even know that Slays make good Lutherans, so Mato's story should probably begin there. The Slovaks and the Wends/Sorbs are the only two Lutheran Slavic groups to immigrate to America, and their numbers were not large. Their languages and cultures are similar, however, and the Reformation took place in their settings early in the 1500s. At this time, Wittenberg found itself in a Sorbian-speaking region, a Slavic territory that already from ancient times stretched between Berlin in the North and Dresden in the South, along the Neisse River. Approximately 145,000 of the indigenous Slays in the area became Lutheran in those early years, not only because they were situated close to key locations of the movement but also because Bishop John IX von Haugwitz (served 1555-81) resigned his Roman Catholic post to convert to Lutheranism and bring his constituencies into the faith. (1)

Prior to this time, the Sorbs had an oral language not yet converted into writing. It could be said, at least in one sense, that Martin Luther fostered the development of the Sorbian language since the first texts in that language were-religious materials, specifically the Bible, the Catechism, and hymnals. In fact, Upper and Lower Sorbian Lutheran poetry/hymnody, completely unknown to us in the West, went through many editions until, for example, in the Lower Sorbian edition of 1882 there were 617 hymns (2)--most of course, translations from German or Latin.

Sorbian presence was strong in Wittenberg because of the surrounding population and because it was a university town. A Sorb served as Luther's assistant. The first Sorbian Lutheran pastor was ordained in 1538, and about forty were ordained during Luther's years there. It was said, however, that the German employed by Sorbian students was often so poor that they used Latin to request Luther's permission to take Communion. Some of these students' names are known to us: Pawol Bosak, Jan Brezan, Miklaws Jakubica. The most prominent, Kaspar Peuker, encouraged contacts with the Slovaks, and many Sorbian graduates ofWittenberg laterevangelized among the Slovaks because their languages were so similar. (3)

The Sorbian ties with the Reformation are interesting for at least two reasons. Luther's wife, Katherine von Bora, was born in Lippendorf, a Sorbian-speaking village near Wittenberg, and her father's name, Hans von Bora, suggests Sorbian heritage because "bora" means "fir" in Sorbian. It cannot be proven that Katherine had Sorbian ancestry, but the Sorbian setting and customs were surely second nature to her. (4)

Kaethe's potential Sorbian ties are interesting because of Luther's personal comments about the Sorbs. Luther claimed that most of his parishioners were "arme Laien und Wenden" (poor laity and Sorbs) who for the most part were "aberglaeubisch und heidnisch, in jeder Beziehung als vom Teufel besessen" (superstitious and heathen, in all respects possessed by the devil). Considering himself more a German than a Saxon (which showed a broad yet somewhat condescending viewpoint toward other nationalities), Luther called the Sorbs "die schlechteste Nation von allen" (the worst nation of all.) (5) If Kaethe were a Sorb, there must have been lively Tischreden (table talks) about family backgrounds! Some of the confusion about Luther's views may, however, be related to linguistic and historical differences regarding the use of the terms Wend and Sorb. Therefore, before returning to Mato Kosyk, the featured hero of this essay, we should review some Sorbian history, focusing on the differences between the uses of the wor ds Sorb and Wend, as well as on the Sorbian nationalism that gave rise to a poet like Mato Kosyk.

Sorbs in their history and their present status in Europe and the world

Today's Sorbian peoples are descendants of ancient Slavic tribes that moved into Western Europe at the time when the Germanic tribes were retreating from Barbarian invasions. Their retreat left a vacuum east of the Elbe River now filled by immigrating tribes that the Germans loosely classified as Wends. Within a few centuries, the Germans realized their "mistake" and, under Henry the Fowler (919), and his son, Otto 1 (936-973), gradually used frontier Christian dioceses to press German rule over the Slays east of the Elbe. (6)

The Sorbs' social and governmental structure proved to be their downfall. They employed large family/tribal structures with a type of military democracy with no ruling hierarchy. They therefore could provide little organized resistance when the bishopric of Meissen was established in their midst and the Christianization of the Slays began. Due to the ongoing Drang nach Osten (push toward the East), which some considered the great accomplishment of the Germans in the Middle Ages, increasing German colonization removed characteristic Slavic customs, dress, and language. One area, however, resisted the change, and this was the area in which Mato Kosyk was to be born.

Upper and Lower Lusatia, a region between Berlin and Dresden and west of the Oder River, had more Slays than Germans, and the German Margraviate was not as centralized as it was in Meissen-Saxony. Here Sorbian individuality was preserved, although it had been lost elsewhere, and strong historic attempts were made to maintain it. The Reformation provided its own interesting attempt to strengthen the Sorbian character by encouraging the use of local language in preaching, liturgy, hymnody, and literature (Bible, Catechism, etc.). This led to the creation of a Sorbian literature, which ultimately became the mark of Sorbian identity. (7) From the mid-1750s to the mid-1850s, a self-proclaimed Sorbian intelligentsia who produced many journals, newspapers, plays, and stories celebrated the arrival of a newfound Sorbian consciousness, the boldness of which captured young Kosyk and encouraged his commitment to it.

Over the course of centuries, Sorbian population was often decimated (almost half of the population died during the Thirty Years War), and S orbs came to be discriminated against in many ways. As is often the case in countries within which a national culture is being defined by the government or by those who think they have authority (e.g., "Mexican-Americans should speak English!"), Sorbs were repeatedly forbidden to use their own language. Records show that the language was banned in Altenburg, Zwickau, and Leipzig between 1297 and 1327. During Bismarck's Kulturkampf, the Kaiserreich advocated a policy of Germanization that depreciated Sorbian, and again in Nazi Germany after 1937 it was forbidden to write or sing in Sorbian. It is important to understand the pressures against Sorbian survival that made the Lusatian S orbs see their setting as the last bastion of resistance if one is to understand the passion and nostalgia in Kosyk's rather monothematic poetry, even in that written from the new world.

The middle of the nineteenth century also provided a dynamic experience in both Europe and America for those considering immigration. In America, many new territories were opening up, the Civil War came to a close in 1865, an industrial boom in urban areas provided jobs, and millions of immigrants (25 million between 1870 and 1916) flocked to the shores of hope (Ufer der Hoffnung is the title of a book on Sorbian immigration by Trudla Malinkowa). Additionally, poor harvests, famines, and political and religious conflicts pressed Northern Europeans to consider the offers from land and factory owners in the country of the second chance. Even educational institutions encouraged students to come and prepare to provide for the spiritual needs of Lutherans in America. Kosyk read such advertising and considered his role in the new world.

Numerous Sorbs made the decision to emigrate before Kosyk left. Some departed in small family groups, and others comprised large migrations. Many of them were affiliated with the "Old Lutheran" movement, groups of Lutherans who objected to the attempt of the government (Friedrich Wilhelm III) to unite the Lutherans and the Reformed in the Union of 1817. Others left for non-religious reasons. A number of groups left for Australia, the first one from Lower Lusatia led by Michael Deutscher in 1848. A group of over 500 Sorbs left for Texas via Liverpool in 1854, seeking freedom to practice their Lutheran orthodoxy as well as to preserve their Sorbian heritage. This group affiliated with Missouri Synod Lutherans in 1866. Additional small groups emigrated to countries like South Africa, Canada, and South America. Kosyk would meet some Sorbs on the occasion of a visit to Sterling, Nebraska. When Kosyk left for America in 1883, however, his reasons were quite personal, and he sailed into the new world as a lone and i ndependent Sorb.

The country that received these representatives of what some have called the world's smallest Slavic nation hardly understood who they were. Given the changing borders and ethnic diversity in Europe, many immigrants to America found it hard to name their own identities. The 500 or so Sorbian immigrants who arrived in Galveston, Texas, in 1854 were primarily bilingual, speaking German and Wendish, and called themselves German Wends. They spoke an "Upper Wendish" dialect, characteristic of those centered around Bautzen, distinguishing them from those who spoke "Lower Wendish" (from the low country) around Cottbus. Speakers of the two dialects could understand one another, but time and regionalization created two different written languages from the dialects, and Kosyk wrote exclusively in the language of the lowland.

Although the term Wend was commonly used when the emigrants left for Texas (and Texans descended from these still know themselves as Wends), the style and usage has changed in Europe in more recent years. Wend tends to have a pejorative ring, especially in Eastern Germany, and today in all scholarly literature in Europe the word Sorb is preferred to Wend. (8) That term will be used throughout the remainder of this essay.

Mato Kosyk, Lutheran Sorb, prepares for ministry in America

Kosyk spent most of his adult life (57 years of it) in America--preparing to be a pastor, serving in ministry (28 years) and living in retirement (27 years). During all the years in America, and for some years before he came, he championed his language and culture, writing as a poet and journalist. In spite of his passion, he is largely unknown to Americans. However, Europeans will mark his 150th birthday in 2003 and acknowledge him as the greatest Lower Sorbian poet of all time, and we will do well to sit up and take notice. Furthermore, we need to understand his gifts to language and culture within the context of what has already been said.

Mato Kosyk was born to Juro and Maya nee Zylojc Kosyk in Lower Lusatia in the village of Werben on June 18, 1853. He attended the local school and, at the encouragement of his pastor, the Gymnasium in Cottbus where he studied, among other things, Latin, Greek, and Sorbian. It was typical to study Sorbian, even if that was not one's heritage, because artisans and business people would be expected to conduct their affairs in the language of the locals. The studies were structured and formal and didn't have a lot of appeal to Kosyk. Years later in a letter he would say that his mother offered him better instruction in language and creative style than did his teachers in the Gymnasium. Kosyk ultimately gave up his studies because the cultural standards of the time did not encourage a higher education in his region ("Wir verloren die Lust am weiteren Lemen"--We lost the desire to continue our education), (9) because the cost of education went up, because he was sometimes ridiculed for his fervent faith by students with nominal belief, and because he acquired a lingering illness.

During the next six years he worked for the railroad in Leipzig. It provided a living for him from which he was able to set aside savings for the years when he moved back with his parents. Most important, however, now settled for the first time in the midst of a large German-speaking population, he came to appreciate the voice of his mother tongue. He began to write poetry in Sorbian at the age of 25. During his free time, he traveled around in the area, made the acquaintance of other Sorbian students in Leipzig, and learned about the grandeur of his Slavic heritage. All this he took with him when in 1877 he returned to his parents' home, unable to continue his work with the railroad because of his lung disease.

Living in Werben he continued his literary interests, helping on the farm, participating in scholarly and scientific organizations, and writing. It would be the first of four periods of literary production in his life and arguably the greatest. Among his output at this time is the great epic poem "The Sorbian Wedding in the Spreewald," a mosaic of Sorbian village life that offers not only a progressive and objective analysis but also a passionately national feeling. (10) During these six years in Werben he also wrote a historical trilogy, some dramas, and a large number of individual poems. Most important for Kosyk was his participation in the revision of the Lower Sorbian Lutheran hymnal, in which he personally edited one-third of more than 600 hymns that were included at that time. He felt this to be among his greatest achievements, because the hymns were regularly sung and memorized, and he was never sure how many read the other materials that he wrote.

Despite the outpouring of creativity during these years, Kosyk longed for the kind of work that would not only give him some freedom to continue to write but would fulfil him personally. He wanted to become a Lutheran pastor. However, the university education he needed for this was denied him, since he had never finished his Gymnasium education and had not received the required Abitur (certificate permitting university study). Through the Lutherische Mission he became aware of an opportunity to receive theological education in America. Subsequent comments from Kosyk, as well as a return trip to his beloved Lusatia, suggest that his long-range plans may not have included 28 years of ministry in the U.S. However, the circumstances of life determined that the last three phases of creative output for Mato Kosyk would be carried out on foreign soil. He was later to say that there were two places he might call "home" in this world, the Lusatia of his childhood and youth, and the far country, which always remained f oreign to him. (11) On Reformation Day, October 31, 1883, Kosyk left his family, friends, and fellow literati who gave him his persona, his passion, and his raison d'etre, and sailed via Hamburg to New York.

Theological training and parish life in rural America

Kosyk started his theological studies at Concordia-Seminar (later to become Concordia Theological Seminary) in Springfield, Illinois. There he met a 33-year-old merchant who had come from Serbin, Texas, to study at the seminary but dropped out after five years because of ill health. Together they reminisced about the homeland, which Mr. August Urban knew only from stories, and Kosyk became moved to tears by the fact that even the children in Serbin, through their parents' singing and storytelling, felt strongly the pulse of their Sorbian hearts. (12)

Kosyk remained only one academic quarter in Springfield before transferring to the German Lutheran Theological Seminary in Chicago Lawn, eight miles from downtown Chicago, operated by the General Synod. This seminary, Kosyk would later write, was more attuned to his theological and ecclesial style, and, furthermore, the students spoke German not only in class but socially among themselves as well. (Kosyk's English was at a beginner level.) There were only about eight students-there had been more than a hundred in Springfield--and they met in a two-story clapboard house with a Verbum Dei Manet in Aeternum banner hanging on the street side of the building. Kosyk liked the intimacy and mentor-like tutoring of the one teacher and director, the Rev. F. E. Giese, who had left Carthage College, taking his students with him, to head up the seminary in 1880, three years before Kosyk arrived. Working in the background for the seminary was a Pastor J. D. Severinghaus, who established contacts with German institutions l ike the Mission Institute at Brekium with a view to sending students to the seminary in order to serve the German populations in America. As with Kosyk, the students from Brekium spent only about a year at the seminary before they were ordained (because they brought some education with them), although the school offered a three-year course in theology. Severinghaus became the president of the institution in 1885, saving it from dissolution, and remained its head for thirteen years. Numerous Midwestern leaders graduated from this institution. Through a number of mergers, it ultimately became the Lutheran School of Theology at Chicago. (13)

Upon completion of his prescribed work, Kosyk was offered a position as pastor in rural Iowa, thus beginning his 28-year service in churches of three different predecessor synods of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America. It was ministry in regions not unlike the rural atmosphere of his youth, although the landscape, the people, the language, and the social situations varied. Kosyk's frequent changes from one parish to another hint at the fragile social structures in the very small congregations he served and also at the tenuous personality dynamics operating between him and congregation members. Not much is known of the latter, but Kosyk does on one occasion say that the ethnic backgrounds of members in a congregation made the site unsuitable for him.

The litany of his congregational service gives pause to analysts of church growth principles. He served for a little over a year in Wellsburg, Iowa, a congregation of the Wartburg Synod, and then two years at St. John's Lutheran Church in Ridgley, Nebraska, a congregation of the Nebraska Synod. He served an independent congregation in Princeton, Nebraska, for about 5 years, then Trinity Lutheran Church in Stamford, Nebraska, for three years, and St. John's Lutheran Church in Ohiowa, Nebraska, for eight years. He served Our Redeemer Lutheran Church in El Reno, Oklahoma, for six years. A sampling of the memberships of the congregations at 35, 70, and 45 suggests that these smaller stations probably had some difficulty keeping their pastors and supporting them. Although Kosyk developed some competence in English preaching, his comfort level lay with serving in the German language, a gradually declining need as rural American Lutheranism entered the 1920s and World War I.

When Kosyk resigned his ministry in 1913 and retired to a farm he owned in Albion, Oklahoma, he cited growing deafness as the reason on the "Autobiography of Ministers" form that he submitted to the United Lutheran Church in America. In his 27 years of retirement, he seems not to have attended a Lutheran church again, there being none in his area (he never owned a car). He maintained ties with the church largely by being remembered as a cofounder of the German Nebraska Synod in 1891 and as a generous donor who deeded significant tracts of land to Lutheran institutions, largely because they were not productive and he could no longer afford to pay the tax on them. (14)

Kosyk's personal life and legacy as a pastor

The detail about Kosyk's wealth prepares the reader to explore some aspects of his personal life, the two breaks in his time of ministerial service, and his three periods of creative output in America. The story of Kosyk's loneliness in the U.S. is not helped by the record since there is no history of the period other than his letters to friends and relatives back home. His poetry makes it clear that he felt abandoned because of his inability to speak in his native tongue (one poem is titled "The Caged Bird"). He had many friends to whom he wrote a moving farewell upon his departure for America, (15) so he must have had a personality capable of making friendships in the U.S. as well, but little is known about this. The lack of a wife was keenly felt, and, upon the death of his younger brother, Kato, in 1886, he resigned from his first parish and returned to Werben in the hopes of fulfilling a number of wishes. There was his father's wish to have his eldest son remain with him now and his own wishes both to fi nd a ministerial post in Lusatia to serve Sorbs in their common language and to find a wife. None of these wishes was realized, and in 1887 he returned to the U.S. to accept his second congregation.

Three years later, however, in 1890, after some correspondence with friends, Anna Wehr, a woman of means, arrived to become his wife. One year later, she gave birth to a son, Juro Ludwig, named after both of his grandfathers. Husband and wife were very different. Anna was outgoing, Mato was introverted; Anna was refined, Mato was of peasant stock. Anna did not speak Sorbian--a significant shortcoming. Futuristic dreaming for the couple was suddenly shattered by Juro's tragic drowning just as he reached the stage of young manhood in which he would have been able to take over the farm and provide for his parents in retirement. The marriage lasted for 39 years, but little is known of the couple's life together except that for years Anna sometimes spent whole days at Juro's grave, which bordered their property, and that Mato turned increasingly inward and wrote poetry. Mato further grieved that his wife did not appreciate or understand the point of his writing poetry.

Anna brought some money into the relationship, which Mato managed well, producing a portfolio of farms and properties that were substantial in terms of acreage but problematic because the land did not produce well and the taxes came to be more than the income. Kosyk solved the problem after Anna's death in 1929 by deeding lands to some Lutheran institutions, specifically Martin Luther Seminary in Lincoln, Nebraska--which through mergers also ultimately became part of the Lutheran School of Theology at Chicago.

Nine years after Anna's death, as Kosyk became more frail at 85, he offered marriage to his German-speaking housekeeper and nursemaid, Wilma Filter. Two years later, Mato Kosyk died, and the house and property were deeded to Martin Luther Seminary, leaving Wilma with no prospect other than to return to Texas. Whether she took with her Kosyk's books and papers or whether they were simply left in Albion is unknown. Mato was buried in the community cemetery in Albion, remembered on his tombstone in English as "Matthew Kossick," the man who, in some sense, he had come to be in America but one who in his heart of hearts he never really was.

Periods of American creativity and 150th anniversary celebrations

Kosyk's creative output in America is unknown to Americans because his poetry was sent back to Europe to be published and because it was written entirely in Sorbian and has not been translated. His American periods can be divided into three time frames, 1883-1886, 1892-1898, and 1923-1927. Certain characteristics mark each period. During the first, his poems express nostalgic longing for Lusatia set against the background of new experiences in America or concentrate on description of the New World.

The letters from acolleaguein Lusatia, B. Swjela, who suggested that poems from Kosyk might inspire students in Lusatia who were now caught up in a new cultural movement, provided the catalyst for the second U.S. period. Kosyk was not only flattered by this encouragement, but his life had changed because of marriage, the birth of a son, and participation in the life of the newly formed German Nebraska Synod, all of which might have provided additional impetus for writing. The poetry in this period is marked by the use of appellative and patriotic themes.

The last period in his career includes poetry with reflections about people (e.g., native Americans) and life in the United States, religious poetry with underlying biblical passages, and poetry dealing with the home that lay beyond--symbolically Lusatia, but also, ultimately, heaven. (16) Such fascination with "going home" is found throughout Kosyk's poetry, all of which is characterized by a nostalgic longing that at times can seem depressing. However, it captures for the poet his transitional status that is the province of all humans longing for that home which is finally and truly Home.

It is a treasure to discover this surprising legacy of poetry, written in the "spare time" of a Lutheran pastor both during his active years and after his retirement. The surprise is all the more mysterious because the poetry that he wrote is not available in English; the five-volume critical edition of his works being published is in his native Sorbian. (17) Celebrations are planned in Europe for the 150th anniversary of Kosyk's birth, June 18,2003, when he will be heraided as the greatest Lower Sorbian poet of all time. Somewhere on that day, perhaps someone will read with inflected nostalgia some lines from his "Caged Bird:"

A bird was caught in nature free,
Put in a cage for all to see.
Forced he was to sing to all,
From his new den so dark, so small.

I am just like this lonely bird,
Away in foreign lands unheard.
Oh yes, I lost Lusatia dear,
Heaven's charm is absent here.

Kosyk's reputation is emerging slowly. The American dream expects the immigrant to find the pot of gold and to be heralded within his/her lifetime. In Kosyk's case, even after he died, few remembered him even for those things that he accomplished in his parishes and synods. Now, sixty years after his death, we are surprised that he left such a legacy.

Language has its limitations, and meanings are held captive when languages are bound or forgotten or lost. In a lovely, nostalgic monograph that tells the story of the current plight of Sorbs whose culture is being taken from them by German demolition of villages situated over Lusatian brown coal deposits, Jurij Koch writes, "It is an error to believe that human understanding on this earth would proceed more rapidly if only we had less languages and cultures, thereby making it unnecessary to give much thought to the smallest Slavic language disappearing as yet another casualty." (18)

One thinks of Mato Kosyk and the treasures yet buried under his legacy, and celebrates with those who already appreciate his gifts, the varieties, nuances, shades and shapes of clarity and beauty that result when diversity and idiosyncrasy are prized, not suppressed. One also thinks of the smiles that cross our faces as we look at all those around us who may yet "make good" long after we thought there was nothing more to expect.

David Zersen is president emeritus of Concordia University at Austin, the only university in the world founded (1926) largely by the descendants of Sorbian/Wendish immigrant s.

(1.) Charles Wukasch, "The Influence of the Reformation on Sorbian Culture," paper presented at the conference of the South Central Modem Language Association, Austin, Texas, 2 November 2002, p.4.

(2.) Gerald Stone, "The Sorbian Hymn," Perspektiven sorbischer Literatur (Koeln, Weimar, Wien: Boehlau Verlag, 1993), 82. See also Joseph B. Wilson, "Slavic Germans," The Samanian Review (April 1995),

(3.) Wukasch, "The Influence of the Reformation," 4-5.

(4.) Dennis Kastens makes this claim in "The Amazing Katie Luther," Lurheran Witness 116:1 (January 1997), 6-9. Martin Treu (Curator, Lutherhaus Wittenberg) argues that the genealogical records of the von Bora family do not support Kastens's claim: Correspondence, July 21, 1997.

(5.) Wukasch, "The Influence of the Reformation," 7.

(6.) Ernst G. Schwiebert, Luther and his Times (St. Louis: Concordia Publishing House, 1950), 70.

(7.) K. Blaschke et. al., The Sorbs in Germany (Bautzen: Stiftung fuer das sorbische Volk, 1998), 6-7.

(8.) Wilson, "Slavic Germans," 1.

(9.) Frido Metsk, "Biographische Bilder," in Mato Kosyk, ed. Pets Janas (Bautzen: Domowina Verlag, 1985), 88.

(10.) Metsk, "Biographische Bilder," 90.

(11.) Metsk, "B iographische Bilder," 86.

(12.) Mato Kosyk, "Sorben in Texas," Sorbisches Lesebuch (Leipzig: Philipp Reclam jun., 1981), 377.

(13.) Story of Midwest Synod, U.L.C.A., 1890-1950. German Lutheran Theological Seminary merged with Western Seminary in 1899. Western was reestablished as Central Seminary in 1949, which in 1967 became a part of the Lutheran School of Theology at Chicago, which itself had been formed in 1962 as a merger of Maywood, Augustana, and Grandview.

(14.) R. Dalitz and G. Stone, "Mato Kosyk in America," Letopis 24 (February 1977): 49-50.

(15.) Metsk, "Biographische Bilder," 93.

(16.) Roland Marti, "Kosyk's Writings," at www.mato-kosyk.de, 18-21. Marti's analysis of Kosyk's literary output is the only work on this subject available in English. See also Roland Marti, "Mato Kosyk," in Perespektiven sorbischer Literature, ed. Walter Koschmal, 131-77 (Koeln, Weimar, Wien: Boehlau Verlag, 1993), 133-34.

(17.) Pets Janas and Roland Marti, Mato Kosyk Spise I (Bautzen: Domowina Verlag, 2000). The first three volumes are now in print with volumes 4 and 5 to come in 2003.

(18.) Jurij Koch, Jubel and Schmerz der MandelKraehe (Bautzen: Domowina Verlag, 1992, 42.