TSU DI ROYTE KRIGER (2)

Oyb es vet dir zayn tsu shver
zumer in di hitsn,
zun mayner, du tu a kler,
vos du geyst bashitsn.

Oyb es vet dir zayn nit gut
harbsttsayt in di netsn,
bruder, hoykh dayn heldnmut,
s'foterland vet shetsn.

Oyb s'vet zayn dir lang di nakht
vinter in di shneyen,
foter, shteln zikh af vakh
dayne kinder geyen.

Oyb es vet nit gringer zayn,
shreklekh zayn vet tomer,
liber mayner, trakht zikh ayn
keyn ander veg nito mer!

TO THE RED SOLDIER (2)

If it is going to be too difficult
for you in the summer's heat,
my son, think about
what you're going to protect.

If it is going to be too uncomfortable in the fall
in the wet rainstorms,
brother, hold on to your helmet,
the fatherland needs protection.

If it is going to be too long a night
in the winter snow,
Father, remember that
your children stand on guard.

If it will not be any easier,
and frightening where you are,
my love, think about that
we have no alternative!

TIFE GRIBER, ROYTE LEYM

Tiefe griber, roiter leym
kh'hob amol gehat a heym.

Friling flegn seder blieen,
Harbstsayt flegn foyglen tsien,
vinter flegt dort faln shney,
itster blit dort vind un vay.

S'hot meyn heym a brokh getrofn:
tir un toyer zaynen ofn
far di rotskhim, far di shinder,
di, vos koyln kleyne kinder,
di, vos hengen uf di zkeynim,
di, vos shaneven nit keynem.

Yor nokh yor zeinen ariber,
fule zaynen yene griber,
un nokh royter iz di leym,
yene leym iz itst mayn heym:

Kumen veln gute tsaytn
vet dos mazl oykh zikh baytn,
veln veyen vern linder.

Veln vider vaksn kinder
veln kinder shpiln, royshn,
bay di kvorim fun di kdoyshim,
bay di tife, fule griber,
az der vey zol nit a riber!

DEEP GRAVES, RED EARTH

Deep graves, red clay
Once I had a home.

Springtime Cedars used to blossom,
Autumn birds used to fly away,
Winter snow used to fall there,
Now “Alas and alack” blossoms there.

Disaster struck my home,
Door and gate are open
For the murders, for the skinners,
Those, who slaughter little children,
Those, who hang the elder,
Those, who spare no one.

Year after year have passed,
Those graves are full,
And still redder is the clay,
That clay is now my home:

Good times will return
Our luck will turn,
Our sorrows will become __________

Once more children will grow,
once more children will play, run,
by the waves of the martyrs
by the deep full graves,
the pain will not pass.

NAYYOR LID

Du fregst mikh: ver vet zayn der driter
in nakht fun groyzamen geviter,
in halbnakht forkhtiker fun nayyor?

Di shtilkayt vet di ershtezayn,
der tsveyter gast a flash mit vayn,
der driter ver es vet arayn.

Du fregst mikh: ver vet zayn der ferter,
ot yener oysderveylt bashterter
in halbnakht forkhtiker fun nayyor?

Di ferte t'zayn di karge shayn,
di tsveyte t'zayn di gloz mit vayn,
di ershte, di vos vet nit zayn.

NEW YEAR'S SONG

You ask me: who will be the third
in that eve __________,
before new year?

The silence will be the first to come,
the second guest is a bottle of wine,
the third whoever comes in.

You ask me: who will be the fourth,
of those other-worldly trouble-makers
who come in that eve before new year?

The fourth guest will be that good-looking meiserly woman,
The second will be a glass of wine,
The first will be that one who will not be there.

DI MUTER

Finf zin hob ikh getrogn
un finf zaynen faranen,
kh'vel aykh dem emes zogn,
layt zaynen mir mekane.

Kumt zuntik mir a brivon,
ikh leyen im biz montik,
kumt montik mir a briv on,
iz montik bay mir yontev.

Un dinstik frimen klapt
shoyn a brivele der mamen
ikh zol zey nit farlinrn,
di briv ikh halt tsuzamen.

Oykh donershtik un mitvokh
men trogt shoyn mir antkegn
fun ale vaytste frontn
fun umbakante vegn.

Nor fraytick, shabes vart ikh,
ikh trog es durkh geduldik,
vayl oyser mir aleyn dokh
iz keyner gornit shuldik.

Tsvey teg on briv geblibn,
ikh tu a mol a trakht,
es voltn ale zibn,
geshribn mir fun shlakht.

THE MOTHER

Five sons I have
and five are available to me,
I'll tell you the truth,
people are envious of me.

When I get a letter on Sunday,
I read it through until Monday.
And if I get a letter on Monday,
then Monday is a holiday.

On Tuesday here
is a letter for mother
because I don't want to lose it,
I keep all the letters together.

Also, Thursday and Wednesday
are before me I'm getting messages
from far away lands
and unfamiliar roads.

Only Friday and Sabbath do I wait,
I try to bear it patiently
because my being alone
is no one's fault.

Two days without letters remain,
sometimes I think
that all seven
are written to me from the battle

TSUM LIBN

Mayn liber, geyst in shlakht avek,
eyn zakh vil ikh dir zogn:
as onyogn kh'vel dikh in veg,
un efsher iberyogn.

Un vayl ikh veys nokh nit dervayl,
tsi geyn vel ikh, tsi loyfndu
kuk arum zikh of a mayl
un zukh mikh fundervaytn.

Un vayl ikh veys nokh nit dervayl,
kh'vel efsher zayn in luftn,
dan vel ikh mit a goldner fayl,
mayn liber, dikh a ruf ton.

Un khotsh ikh veys nokh nit biz itst,
di fayl, vu ikh vel nemen,
mayn liber, gey, dos land bashits,
kh'vel oykh dikh nit farshemen.

Un khotsh ikh veys nokh nit dervayl
di fayl, vu ikh vel varfn,
mayn liber, for gezunt, ihk ayl,
tsesheydn mir zikh darfn.

Vi gikh es ruft dos land oykh mikh,
du tu a kuk, ikh veyn nit,
mayn liber, mir tsesheydn zikh,
dokh blaybn mir fareynikt.

TO THE BELOVED

My beloved, you are going to battle
I have one thing to tell you:
That I am going to follow you on the road,
maybe I will get ahead of you.

I am still not sure whether I will walk,
or whether I will run, look behind
you every now and then
and look for me far away.

And while I am not yet certain,
maybe I will be in the air
and there with a golden arrow,
my beloved, I will call to you.

I am still not totally certain
where I will get that arrow,
but, my beloved, go, protect the land
and don't worry, I will not betray you.

I am still not totally certain
where I am going to shoot the arrow,
my beloved, travel safely,
because we must part.

How quickly the land calls to me,
take a look, I am not crying,
My beloved, we are parting,
and yet we remain together.