Manger’s Eynzam/Lonesome (The Chernovitz Version)
Recorded and sung by Beyle Schachter-Gottesman, 1970s.
Commentary by Itzik Gottesman
February 21, 2019 marked fifty years since the passing of the Yiddish poet Itzik Manger. He was born in Chernovitz (then Austria-Hungry) in 1901 and died in Gedera, Israel in 1969.
To honor this date, I found a recording of Beyle Schaechter-Gottesman (my mother) singing Manger’s song Eynzam(Keyner veyst nisht vos ikh vil) with a different melody than is most commonly sung. Unfortunately, she is interrupted before the end of the song, and does not complete it.
My mother told me that when she sang the song once at a gathering in New York, Yetta Bickel, wife of the critic Shloyme Bickel, said to her “that is the melody of the song that Itzik Manger himself had sung in Romania.”
Attached are scans of the words with the more commonly heard melody as found in the Mir trogn a gezang song collection compiled by Eleanor (Chana) Gordon Mlotek, NY 1972, pages 162-163. This includes transliteration and lyrics in Yiddish.
I have not yet found another recording of this Chernovitz version.
The singer Janie Respitz is a Yiddish educator and singer from Montreal. Janie incorporates her singing in her lectures and shares her passion and knowledge of Yiddish folklore with her concert audiences.
As she states at the beginning of this video-recording made in Montreal, July 2017, she learned Berl der alter shiker (Berl the Old Drunk) from the late Max Satin, a resident in the Jewish Geriatric Hospital in Montreal.
Berl der alter shiker is similar to a previous post Shtey ikh mir in ayn vinkele sung by Itka Factorovich Sol. Respitz’s song is closer to the version found in Skuditski 1936 Monopol, monopol (scan of page attached) but the drunk does not have the conversation with the moon.
In his article Geyt a yid in shenkl arayn: Yiddish Songs of Drunkeness (Field of Yiddish: Fifth Collection, 1993), Robert A. Rothstein analyzes versions of the song and points out that the verse about the wife drinking the whiskey all up is from Velvl Zbarzher’s poem Der shiker (The Drunk) found in his Makel No’am מקל נועם Vol. 3, Lemberg 1873. Shmuel-Zanvil Pipe also pointed this out in YIVO-bleter, 1939 (vol. 14: 339-667) Perhaps we should consider the whole text a folklorized Zbarzher song?
TRANSLITERATION / TRANSLATION
“Hi, I’m Jamie Respitz. I learn this from the late Max Satin, a resident in the Jewish Geriatric Hospital, here in Montreal a number of years ago.”
Fun zint der monopol iz af der velt
bin ikh af im in kas.
Es kost mikh op a mayontik mit gelt
un ikh trink azoy vi fun a fas.
Ikh nem dos fleshele in mayne hent
un ikh klap dem koretsl aroys,
tsebrekht zikh dos fleshele in mayne hent
un der bronfn gist aroys.
Ay-ay-day-day….
Haynt vel ikh mit mayn vaybele zikh tsekrign
Zi vet nokh hobn tsu gedenken.
Vifl mol ikh hob ir shoyn farshvign.
Haynt vel ikh ir nisht shenken.
Kh’ob genumen dos fleshele mit bronfn.
Geleygt hob im tsukopns.
Se khapt zikh oyf di ployneste baynakht,
un zi trinkt es oys bizn letstn tropn.
Ay-ay-day-day
Oy vey, reboyne-shel-oylem.
Du bist dokh a hartsiker rikhter.
Zol shtendik regenen mit bronfn un mit bir.
Ikh vil keyn mol nisht zayn nikhter.
Af mayn keyver zol zayn ongegosn.
Mit bronfn un mit bir.
Dos iz bay mir der iker.
Un af mayn matseyve zol sshteyn ongeshribn –
“do ligt Berl der alter shiker.”
Ay-day-day…
do ligt Berl der alter shiker.
Since the “monopol” [Czarist controlled liquor stores/pubs] is in the world
I am angry at it.
It costs me a fortune of money
and I drink as if from a barrel.
I take the bottle in my hand
and knock the cork out.
The bottle breaks in my hand
and the whiskey pours out.
Ay-day-day…
Today I will argue with my wife.
She will have what to remember [she will pay for it]
So many times I have told her to shut up
Today I will not spare her.
I took the bottle of booze
Put it at my head.
My wife wakes up at night
and drinks it all to the last drop.
Ay-day-day
O Master of the universe
you are a compassionate judge.
Let it always rain whiskey and beer
So I won’t ever have to be sober.
On my grave let them pour
whiskey and beer,
and on my gravestone it should be written –
“Here lay Berl the old drunk.”
Ay-day-day
Researching “Cabaret Warsaw,” a cd of music created and performed by Jews in Warsaw between the wars, I was pointed to a 1929 book called “35 letste teatr lider fun Azazel un Sambatiyon” (Azazel and Sambatiyon being two kleynkunst venues popular at the time). I found the book at Brooklyn’s Chasidic “Library Of Agudas,” along with six tiny books of theater songs and monologues (lyrics only) published in 1933 and 1934 by bookseller and record shop owner Itzik Zhelonek (Zielonek). I decided to track down the melodies for as many of these songs as possible (for more information click here); Itzik Gottesman sent me a version of one of them sung by Jacob Gorelik – this week’s Yiddish Song of the Week, known as “Dos fleshl” (the bottle) or “Tshort vos’mi” (The Devil Take’s It).
Gorelik learned the song from a guy in Central Park – back when it was a place people went to “sing and play” (he contrasted that to its present reputation as a place to buy drugs). He didn’t know the man, or where the song came from, but he said it shares its melody with the Russian song “Kare Glaski” (“Brown Eyes,” see Russian lyrics below).
The words Gorelik sang were quite different from the lyric printed in “35 letste teatr lider” (texts to both versions are below). Sometimes singers “folk process” what they’ve heard, or they forget the words and re-imagine them from scratch.
Here is the song as sung by Jacob Gorelik, recorded in his NYC apartment, 1985, by Itzik Gottesman:
Gorelik’s spoken introduction, transcribed and translated by Itzik Gottesman:
A special genre of songs are about drunks. Because, basically, the background of every drunk is a sad one: a person is not born drunk – troubles, bad habits, bad family; the father was a drunk. And here we have a song of a drunk, and he tells us, more or less, of his life. I don‘t know the father, the mother [of the song]; I don‘t know who wrote the song and who created the melody. Possibly it‘s an old theater song, very possiblew but it has the taste of a folksong. I heard it my first years in America in Central Park. I lived then at 110th street, near the park. And in those years the park was not just a place to sell drugs, or for other deviates. The park was the for the youth. We came and sang, played, sang. We were not afraid. We even slept there till 2:00 at night near the reservoir. And there I heard someone sing this song of a drunk. I don‘t remember his name.
The song of a drunk – ‘Tshort Voz’mi’, which means – The Devil Take It. Gorelik’s version, transcribed and translated by Jane Peppler:
Yo, hob ikh in der velt alts farlorn
A yosim geblibn bin ikh fri
Mayne fraynt hob ikh, hob ikh shoyn lang farlorn
Mayn fraynt iz nor dos fleshl, tshort voz’mi
I’ve lost everything in this world,
I was orphaned at an early age.
I lost my friends long ago,
Only my bottle is my friend
The devil take it.
Ikh hob a mol a nomen gehat
azoy vi di greste aristokrasi
un haynt hob ikh im shoyn lang fargesn
vi ruft men mikh, freg baym fleshl, tshort voz’mi
I used to have a name like the great aristocrats
Now I’ve forgotten my former reputation,
What people call me now, ask the bottle
The devil take it.
Ikh hob a mol a heym gehat
Ergets vayt, ikh veys nisht vu
Haynt gey ikh arum na venad
Vu iz mayn heym?
Freg baym fleshl, tshort voz’mi
I used to have a home somewhere
Far away, I don’t know where.
Now I go around without a homeland.
Where is my home? Ask the bottle.
The devil take it.
Ikh hob a mol a gelibte gehat
Iz zi dokh tsu a tsveytn avek
Un haynt hob ikh fil, un lib nisht keyner
Mayn gelibte iz nor dos fleshl, tshort voz’mi
I used to have a sweetheart,
She’s left me for someone else.
And now I have so much, but I don’t love anybody
My sweetheart? Just this bottle.
The devil take it.
Here is the text printed in the 1929 collection:
Geven bin ikh a mentsh eyner
Bakant geven in der gantser velt
Haynt iz far mir alesding farlorn
Tsulib dir, mayn fleshele, okh! Tshort vosmi!
I used to be well known in the whole world
Now everything is lost to me because of you, my bottle,
The devil take it
Gehat hob ikh a kale Gitele
Antlofn iz zi, der tayvl veyst vu
Zi hot mir geton mayn lebn derkutshen
Tsulib dir, mayn fleshele, okh! tshort vosmi!
I had a bride, Gitele,
She’s run away, the devil knows where
She tormented my life thanks to you, my bottle
The devil take it
Men varft mir shteyner nokh in di gasn
“Shlogt im!” shrayt men, “dem bosyak.”
Zogt mir, menshn, farvos tut ir mikh hasn?
Tsulib dir, mayn fleshele, okh! Tshort vozmi!
People throw stones at me in the street.
“Hit that bum,” they cry,
Tell me, people, why do you hate me?
Because of you, my little bottle,
Oh, the devil take it.
Vu iz mayn foter? Vu iz mayn muter?
Vu iz mayn heymat, zogt mir vu?
Fun vandern iz mir shoyn mayn lebn farmiest
Tsulib dir, mayn fleshele, okh! Tsort vozmi!
Where is my father? My mother?
My homeland? Tell me, where?
My life is ruined by wandering,
Because of you, my little bottle
The devil take it.
S’vert mir erger in di letste tsaytn
Kh’bin shoyn alt un krank un farshmakht
Un, ikh shtarb avek, mayne libe laytn,
durkh dir, mayn fleshele, oy, a gute nakht!
Lately things have gotten worse for me,
I’m old and sick and languishing
I’m dying, my dear people,
Because of you, my little bottle,
oy, good night!
Yiddish text – Gorelik’s version:
Карие глазки (Brown Eyes)
Карие глазки, где вы скрылись.
Мне вас больше не видать.
Куда вы скрылись, запропали,
Навек заставили страдать.
Выньте сердце, положите
На серебряный поднос.
Вы возьмите, отнесите
Сердце другу, пока спит.
To honor this date, I found a recording of Beyle Schaechter-Gottesman (my mother) singing Manger’s song Eynzam (Keyner veyst nisht vos ikh vil) with a different melody than is most commonly sung. Unfortunately, she is interrupted before the end of the song, and does not complete it.
Yiddish Song of the Week 