“Shabes nukh dem kigel” Performed by Malka Lubelski

Shabes nukh dem kigel /Sabbath, after the kugel  [potato pudding]
Sung by Malka/Molly Lubelski, recorded by Abraham Lubelski, Bronx 1967

Malka Lubelski with son Abraham in Post-WWII Germany

COMMENTARY BY ITZIK GOTTESMAN
A love song from the 19th century apparently in the repertoire of the Broder zingers, itinerant singers and actors who often performed in taverns and wine cellars. A different version of this song can be found in the collection Broder zinger (1960) by Shlomo Pryzament (scan attached), with text and music. The singer Masha Benya recorded this Pryzament version which is sung from the man’s point of view. Here is the link to Benya’s recording from her LP record Jewish Song Treasury, Volume 2.

Molly Lubelski’s version differs significantly textually and is sung from the girl’s point of view. Her referring to her “Madam” implies that the singer works for her in some capacity or the Madam is her landlady, or perhaps it’s an ironic way to refer to her mother. There is another song from the Yiddish theater entitled “Shabes nokhn kugl” , which is a completely different song and has been recorded several times. The words and music to that theater song can be found in Jane Peppler’s Yiddish Songs from Warsaw 1929-193: The Itzik Zhelonek Collection.     

For biographical information on Malka Lubelski see the previous post “Vi iz dus gesele”. 

Shabes nukh dem kigl
sung by Molly Lubelski

Shabes nukh dem kigl
geyt mayn madam tsu gest.
Es kumt tsu mir mayn khusn
un drikt un kisht mikh fest.

Sabbath after the kugel,
my madam goes out to visit.
So my future husband then comes to me
and squeezes and kisses me strongly.

Tsvay upgeglantste shtivl,
dus hitl in a zayt
er iz an oysgedinter,
fardint un iz a layt.

With two shiny boots
and his cap worn to the side,
he has served in the military,
and earns a reasonable living.

Bald nokh dem esn
geyen mir paze taykh. 
Es zenen undz mekane
say urem un say raykh. 

Right after eating,
we walk along the river.
Everyone envies us,
the poor and the rich.

Ikh trug a nay klaydl,
tsvay oysgekemte tsep. 
Ikh bin a shayn maydl 
un ikh fardray di kep.

I’m wearing a new dress,
and have combed my braids.
I am a pretty girl
and heads turn when I pass. 

Nor im lib ikh
un er hot dus der vert.
Er iz der shenster bukher
der shenster oyf der erd.

But he is the one I love,
and he is worth it.
He is the handsomest man,
the best looking in the world

Er zugt er vet mikh nemen
un shteln a khupe oykh. 
O, klezmer veln shpiln,
oy, az s’vet geyn a roykh.

He says he will take me
and marry me.
O, klezmers will play so well
oy, that smoke will rise.

Un mayn madam vet shenken
tsvey kishn un a klayd.
Oy, vet zayn a simkhe,
oy, vet zayn a frayd.

And my madam will give as gifts –
two pillows and a dress.
Oy, there will be a celebration
oy, there will be joy.

un mashke vet men trinken
vifl s’vet arayn,
un shabes nukh deym kigl
kumt mayn madam tsu geyn.

We’ll drink whiskey
as much as we can.
Sabbath after the kugel
my madam goes out to visit.

שבת נאָך דעם קוגל
געזונגען פֿון מלכּה (מאַלע) לובעלסקי

שבת נאָך דעם קוגל
.גייט מײַן מאַדאַם צו געסט
עס קומט צו מיר מײַן חתן
.און דריקט און קושט מיך פֿעסט

,צוויי אָפּגעגלאַנצטע שטיוול
,דאָס היטל אין אַ זײַט
,ער איז אַן אויסגעדינטער
.פֿאַרדינט און איז אַ לײַט

באַלד נאָך דעם עסן
.גייען מיר פּאַזע טײַך
עס זענען אונדז מקנא
.סײַ אָרעם און סײַ רײַך

,איך טראָג אַ נײַ קליידל,
.צוויי אויסגעקעמטע צעפּ
איך בין אַ שיין מיידל
.און איך פֿאַרדריי די קעפּ

 נאָר אים ליב איך
.און ער האָט דאָס ווערט
,ער איז דער שענסטער בחור
.דער שענסטער אויף דער ערד

ער זאָגט ער וועט מיך נעמען
.און שטעלן אַ חופּה אויך
,אָ, קלעזמער וועלן שפּילן
.אוי, אַז ס’וועט גיין אַ רויך

און מײַן מאַדאַם וועט שענקען
.צוויי קישן און אַ קלייד
אוי, וועט זײַן אַ שׂימחה
.אוי, וועט זײַן אַ פֿרייד

מאַשקע וועט מען טרינקען
.וויפֿל ס’וועט אַרײַן
און שבת נאָך דעם קוגל
.קומט מײַן מאַדאַם צו גיין

From Broder zinger (1960) by Shlomo Pryzament, p. 86-87:

• 

• 

“Dos fleshl/Tshort vos’mi” Performed by Jacob Gorelik

Commentary by Jane Peppler

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.

Мил проснётся, ужахнётся.
Милый помнит обо мне.
Мил потужит, погорюет
По несчастной сироте.