A translator, publicist, and public lecturer, he was involved with the Romanian press of New York City, and eventually as a Romance studies academic at Columbia and Long Island.

[5] This period was interrupted by his taking a literature and law degree from the University of Montpellier, though he also had a published debut in Saniel Grossman's Jewish review, Lumea Israelită.

[8] Following the antisemitic outcry that came about as a result of the staging of Ronetti Roman's play Manasse and similar episodes,[1] Feraru renounced his training as a physician and began planning his departure from Romania.

[18] In 1925,[1] the latter made a return visit to Romania, tending to his family's grave and feeding his urge to converse in Romanian,[19] but also setting up a Society of the Friends of the United States.

[20] His first book of poetry was Maghernița veche și alte versuri din anii tineri ("The Old Shanty and Other Verse of Youth"), put out by Cartea Românească of Bucharest in 1926.

[1] His research received sympathetic coverage from historian and Prime Minister Nicolae Iorga: "[Feraru's studies] are not just an enjoyable read, but also sometimes contribute innovative pieces of information and assessment, such as are worthy of one's attention.

"[23] Feraru also translated selections from Mihai Eminescu, Tudor Arghezi, Panait Cerna, Anton Pann, Vasile Cârlova and Dimitrie Bolintineanu into English.

[24] Feraru was later featured in Cugetul Liber, put out in Bucharest by Pas and Eugen Relgis, his texts also published in the Union of Romanian Jews organ, Curierul Israelit.

[27] He submitted articles and reviews for The International Encyclopedia (1930) about Gala Galaction, Mateiu Caragiale, Ioan Alexandru Brătescu-Voinești, Lucian Blaga, and his friend Baltazar.

[2] His memory lingered among younger authors as they themselves reached old age; in the 1980s, Geo Bogza composed a prose poem about a dream sequence involving Leon Feraru.

[30] According to literary historian and critic George Călinescu, Feraru's poetic works fall into two separate categories: "moving" regrets for his native Romania, and samples of proletarian literature, including an ode to the sound of hammers in industrial Brăila ("his most valid" poetry).

[31] Another such ode, addressed "to the needle" and published in Convorbiri Critice, was lauded by its editor Mihail Dragomirescu: "Leon Feraru, a formal virtuoso, [...] presents here the sort of talent that he will rarely rise up to in later years.

Theodorescu, who reviewed his poetry for Adevărul, Feraru could not hide his Romanian poetic soul in "the iron discipline of American life"—"his childhood was his nationality".