“In Daytshland aleyn” Performed by Goldie Rosenbaum-Miller

In Daytshland aleyn / In Germany Itself
A 19th century pogrom song adapted for the Holocaust sung by Goldie Rosenbaum-Miller. Recorded by Michael Kroopkin, circa 1965.

Goldie Rosenbaum-Miller

In daytshland aleyn, hob ikh dort gezeyn
zitsn ayn meydl, ayn sheyne, zitsn ayn meydl, ayn sheyne.
Ze, zi itstert veynt far yedern farbay geyn,
zi beyt a neduve, ayn kleyne,

In Germany I saw there
a girl was sitting, a beauty, a girl was sitting, a beauty.
See how she cries now, for every passerby.
She asks for alms, just a few.

Meydl, di sheyne, di binst azoy eydl.
Vus makhsti aza troyerdike mine?
Vus makhsti aza troyerdike mine?
Dayn sheyne fagur [figur], dayn eydele natur,
past dir tsu zayn a grafine.

Girl, you pretty one, you are so gentle.
Why do you make such a sad face?
Why do you make such a sad face?
Your fine figure, your gentle nature –
It suits you more to be a countess.

S’iz mir ayn shand, oystsushtrekn man hant
tsu beytn ba laytn gelt. 
Got di tayerer, Got oy mayner
Nem mikh shoyn tsi fin ver velt. 

I am ashamed to stretch out my hand
and beg for money from people.
Oh God, you dear one, Oh my God, 
Take me away from this world. 

Hitler mit di katsapn mit zayne vilde lapn.
Er hot, dokh, oy, ales fardorbn. Er hot, dokh, oy, ales fardorbn
Dos hoyz hot er tsibrokhn Man fater geshtokhn
Fin ales [ ?] far toytshrek geshtorbn.
Dos hoyz hot er tsibrokhn. Man fater geshtokhn
Mayn muter far toytshrek geshtorrbn.

Hitler with his bandits [“Katsapn”: derogatory word for “Russians”]
and his wild paws,
He ruined everything. He ruined everything.
My house was destroyed. My father was stabbed,
From it all, they died of terror.
My house was destroyed. My father was stabbed,
my mother died of terror. 

Ven men iz aroys, fun yeydern hoyz
s’i geveyn shreklekh tsitsikikn. 
Hitler mit di bande er hot gefirt di komande.
Er hot dokh, oy, ales fardorbn. 
Hitler mit di bande, Er hot gefirt di komande.
Er hot dokh oy ales fardorbn.

When everyone came out
of their houses
It was a horrible site to see.
Hitler and his band,
he lead his gang
Oh, he ruined everything.
Hitler and his band,
he lead his gang
Oh, he destroyed everything.

Commentary on the Singer Provided by Debbie Kroopkin, Her Great-Grandaughter:

Goldie Miller was born Goldie Rozenbaum in Sokolow Podlaski, Poland on March 4, 1888. She married Nathan Kroopkin in 1909 in Warsaw, emigrating to the U.S. in 1913. In Chicago, she later married Isaac S. Miller. She loved to sing and would often perform at landsmanshaften picnics. According to a family story she was asked to sing professionally in Poland “but chose to raise a family instead”. She died on April 23, 1973 in Chicago.

Commentary on the Song by Itzik Gottesman

This song is an adaptation of one of the oldest songs created after a pogrom. The “original” was published in 1895.  On this blog we have posted two versions of this song. Please see the notes to these two earlier versions on the blog – “In Odes af a shteyn” sung by Lifshe Schaechter-Widman and “In Kiever gas” sung by Frima Braginski.

But this version, “In Daytshland aleyn” sung by Goldie Rosenbaum-Miller, has converted it into a Holocaust song accusing Hitler of the destruction. “Katsapes”, a derogatory term for “Russians” that made more sense in the earlier pogrom versions, is kept in this Holocaust adaptation though historically it doesn’t fit it in. 

Thanks to Goldie Miller’s great-grandaughter, Debbie Kroopkin, who brought this family recording to the attention of Binyumen Schaechter, conductor of the Yiddish Philharmonic Chorus in NYC.

אין דײַטשלאַנד אַליין
געזונגען פֿון גאָלדי ראָזענבאַום-מילער
,אין דײַטשלאַנד אַליין, האָב איך דאָרט געזען

.זיצן אײַן [אַ] מיידל, אײַן [אַ] שיינע
[?] ,זע, זי איצטערט וויינט, פֿאַר יעדערן פֿאַרביי גיין
.זי בעט אַ נדבֿה, אײַן [אַ] קליינע

.מיידל, דו שיינע, דו בי(נ)סט אַזוי איידל
?וואָס מאַכסטו אַזאַ טרויערדיקע מינע
,דײַן שיינע פֿיגור, דײַן איידעלע נאַטור
.פּאַסט דיר צו זײַן אַ גראַפֿינע

,ס’איז מיר אײַן שאַנד, אויסצושטרעקן מײַן האַנט
.צו בעטן בײַ לײַטן געלט
,גאָט דו טײַערער, גאָט דו מײַנער
.נעם מיך שוין צו פֿון דער וועלט

היטלער מיט די קאַצאַפּן, מיט זײַנע ווילדע לאַפּן
ער האָט דאָך, אוי, אַלעס פֿאַרדאָרבן
,דאָס הויז האָט ער צעבראָכן, מײַן פֿאַטער געשטאָכן
.מײַן מוטער פֿאַר טויטשרעק געשטאָרבן

ווען מען איז אַרויס, פֿון יעדערן הויז
.ס’איז געווען שרעקלעך צוצוקוקן
היטלער מיט די באַנדע, ער האָט געפֿירט די קאָמאַנדע
.ער האָט דאָך אַלעס פֿאַרדאָרבן

“In mayn hartsn brent a fayer” Performed by Lifshe Schaechter-Widman

In mayn hartsn brent a fayer / A fire burns in my heart
Sung by Lifshe Schaechter-Widman, recorded by Leybl Kahn, 1954 NY

Commentary by Itzik Gottesman

Another lyrical love song sung by Lifshe Schaechter-Widman (LSW) from the Leybl Kahn recordings of 1954.

Lifshe Schaechter Widman & Leybl Kahn by Ben Katchor

Two similar versions of the song without the melody were collected by Shmuel-Zaynvil Pipe and Oyzer Pipe in Sanok, Galicia and published in the YIVO-bleter volume 11, Jan – May, 1937 in Yidishe folkslider fun Galitsye, page 62. I have mentioned before in this blog that of all the pre-World War Two collections of Yiddish folksong, the Pipe brothers’ Galicia, Poland, collections come closest to LSW’s Bukovina repertory.

Note that LSW sings “malekh- hamus”, which is her dialect form for “malekh-hamoves” (angel of death).

Regarding the comic strip above: the artist Ben Katchor imagined how these 1954 recording sessions might have looked in his advertisement for the cassette Az di furst avek. The strip appeared in the collection Picture Story 2 (NY. 1986, edited by Ben Katchor).

In mayn hartsn brent a fayer / A fire burns in my heart

TRANSLITERATION

In mayn hartsn brent a fayer
nor me zeyt nisht keyn royekh aroys.
Ekh hob gemeynt bist a malekh fin deym himl.
Tsum sof bisti mayn malekh-hamus

Mayne eltern tien mikh freygn,
vus ikh gey azoy arim  betribt.
Vi ken ikh zey mayn shmarts dertseyln,
az ekh hob mekh in dir farlibt.

Az ikh hob mekh in dir farlibt.
hot keyn shum foygl af der velt hot nisht gevist.
Haynt iz a rash in ale gasn,
az indzer libe iz imzist.

Az di libe iz imzist;
Es geyt mir azh un a geveyn.
Far veymen blaybt den di veytik
Az nisht nor bay mir aleyn.

TRANSLATION

A fire burns in my heart
but no smoke can be seen.
I thought you were an angel from heaven,
turns out you’re the angel of death.

My parents ask me
why I go around so sad.
How can I tell them of my pain –
that I have fallen in love with you.

That I have fallen in love with you –
not a bird the world over knew about it.
Today there’s much talk in all the streets
that our love is for naught.

That our love is for naught
keeps me crying.
With whom will stay this pain
if not only with me.

Shmuel-Zaynvil and Oyzer Pipe, Yidishe folkslider fun Galitsye, YIVO-bleter volume 11, Jan – May, 1937:

“Arele kumt in vald” Performed by Larisa Pechersky

This week’s blog post – song and commentary – was submitted by Larisa Pechersky, who also performs on the recording.

Thank you for giving me the opportunity to make my grandmother’s name known and maybe remembered by people who often ask me how I know so many Yiddish songs. I always tell them that it’s because of my grandmother. Now, I hope her story, name, and image will be shared with them for the first time. As always, I dedicate all my work in the field of Jewish folklore and education to her blessed memory.

Milya Shagalova (nee Mikhlya Fle’er / Fleyer), grandmother of Larisa Pechersky in Horki on her 20th birthday

I learned this song from my maternal grandmother when I was a toddler in the late 70s . She lived with my mother and me, and took care of me while my mom worked. All day long, as she worked around the house, she sang hundreds of Yiddish songs and encouraged me to sing along.

She would stop many times during a song to comment and make connections to her life in a Belorussian shtetl, to the experiences of her family and friends, and whatever lessons she wanted me to take away from each song. She often acted out the songs with me and showed me how to express a variety of feelings through a nign without words (just like in this song, Arele, she emphasized how the same nign after each verse can express fear, despair, or relief).

She made each song a window into Jewish life for me, a child growing up in a big city of Leningrad, the cultural capital of the Soviet Union, where forced assimilation was the norm for its more than 150,000 Jews. Assimilation was out of the question for my family, where my grandmother wanted me to know Yiddish and grow up proudly Jewish.

Larisa Pechersky (age 3) and her grandmother, Milya Shagalova, at home in Leningrad

My grandmother, Milya Shagalova (nee Mikhlya Fle’er / Fleyer), was born in 1914 in Propoysk, a shtetl in Mogilievske Guberniye, Belorussia. In the post-revolution years, her father, Zalmen, received a warning that he was to be arrested, stripped of his possessions, and exiled for owning four cows and employing one housekeeper. To avoid this fate, the family fled to Horki, a larger shtetl in the region, his birthplace.

As the third daughter in a family with no sons at the time, little Mikhlya was sent to a traditional all-boys kheyder to study. She told me compassionate stories of the cruel pranks the boys did to the poor old rebbe that she, as the only girl, felt so bad about. Later, she graduated from a seven-year school, where all of the subjects were taught in Yiddish. She wanted to continue on to the Jewish (Yiddish) teachers’ college, but it was no longer possible.

In 1934, as a newlywed, she moved to Leningrad with her husband Naum (Nokhom-Abram), where they lived  their whole life afterwards. Despite knowing Russian as well as if it were their native tongue, they always spoke Yiddish at home and with many friends, never missed a Jewish concert or event, and subscribed to Jewish periodicals when it was still possible.

During World War II, my grandma miraculously survived the horrific siege of Leningrad with my three-month old mom, but lost her five-year old son, who was with his grandparents in Horki for the summer, during which the Nazis invaded it and killed 7,500 Jews, including the boy, his four grandparents, and 38 more of our relatives.

My grandpa Naum, who came back from the front without a leg, learned of his son’s initial rescue, swift betrayal, and killing from his former neighbors. My grandma’s lament and guilt that she “sent her own child to death with her own hands” by letting him travel to Belorussia before the war “nobody expected to happen” was one of the stories that she would tell me often.

Larisa and Milya on summer vacation in Ukraine

When the Perestroika had just begun, the very first signs of the Jewish renewal were two concerts of Jewish music at the end of 1988 in Leningrad. My grandma did not miss them despite her poor health and the two of us went together. She felt that they “added seven more years of life” to her. This is how highly she regarded Jewish songs.

To my greatest regret, she passed away in January 1989 before I went to synagogue for the first time and matriculated at the newly created Jewish University that same year. I never recorded any of her songs, but kept hundreds of them in my memory. I still remember some ballads, just partially, and feel terrible that I can’t recall all the words or find them published anywhere.

When my friends and I started a Jewish school in Leningrad, I dedicated my work to giving my students the same as what my grandmother gave me – teaching them every and any thing Jewish through our amazing multi-layered Yiddish songs. Researching Yiddish musical folklore became my profession, passion, and a tribute to my grandma’s bravery and real heroism in passing our musical tradition to new generations amid the tribulations she lived through.

Arele kumt in vald (Arele Comes to the Woods)

This is how I remember learning the words as a child. I understand they sound not totally grammatically correct, but this is how I sang it as a kid.

Most of the time, we sang the second and third verses in the reverse order. The line in question meant Arele wasn’t taken aback; didn’t fear (I don’t remember the Yiddish word). When it was sung as the second verse, it made his attempt to escape appear to be futile given the next stanza (he thought he could run away, but now he can clearly see the dire situation – the mouth, the paws, etc). This way the time between his climbing up the tree, crying in despair, and eventual rescue was much longer and more terrifying in his eyes.

This was the order of the verses my grandma usually used. Switching the verses makes his actions appear more brave (he didn’t lose his head despite realizing all the details of the dangerous situation beforehand). Also, we sang it a bit slower, in a more storytelling manner, than I did in this recording.The English transliteration reflects the Yiddish dialect more than the Yiddish transcription.

Arele kumt in vald,
Dreyt zikh ‘hin un ‘her.
Ven er dremlt bald
kumt a greyser ber!

Der ber mit lapes greyse!
G’valt, dos iz nit gut!
Fun eygn trern heyse,
Ot iz sheyn kaput!

Arele is nit flit [foyl?]
Eyfn beym er kletert.
Un der ber mit ofn mul,
G’valt, nito keyn reter!

A reter iz ba sholem,
A greyser nes getrofn!
Geven iz dos a kholem,
Ven Arel iz geshlofn!

Arele comes to the woods,
wanders here and there.
When he slumbers, right away comes
a great big bear.

The bear with giant paws!
Help, this is not good.
From his eyes hot tears stream.
Now all is kaput.

Arele is not lazy
and on the tree he climbs.
And the bear with an open mouth
Help, there is no rescue!

A rescue did come in peace;
a great miracle happened.
This was all a dream
while Arele was sleeping.