“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:

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Merke Levine Performs “Mayn harts, mayn harts”

Mayn harts, mayn harts / My heart, my heart
Sung by Merke (Mary) Levine, recorded by Beyle Schaechter-Gottesman
Bronx, July 6, 1991

Commentary by Itzik Gottesman

The singer Merke (Mary) Levine was from Belarus and came to NY after the first world war. She lived in the Bronx and was active in the Yiddish left, and later in life was a board member of the Sholem Aleichem Cultural Center in the Bronx. Her husband Tevye Levine was a teacher in the Arbeter ordn folkshuln.

Merke (Mary) Levine

This love song Mayn harts, mayn harts is found twice in the YIVO Ruth Rubin on-line collection. There it is sung both by Golde Fried and her husband Israel (Sruli) Freed with the same melody and only minor textual differences.

In terms of  Yiddish folksong poetry, what stands out is the line “Mayne gedanken – ahin, aher”, which I translated as “My thoughts – any way you look at it”.  The expression “ahin-aher” or “hin-her” can also mean “after long discussion”, or “to get to the point”

TRANSCRIPTION

Mayn harts, mayn harts veynt in mir.
Ikh darf zikh sheydn itst mit dir.
Mayne gedanken – ahin-aher.
Mit dir tsu sheydn iz mir shver.

Vu forstu mayn zis lebn?
Vu forstu fun mir avek?
Vu vel ikh dir darfn zukhn?
Zog zhe mir in velkhn veg?

Fun yedn shtetele, fun yedn derfele,
a brivele shraybn zolstu mir.
Betn, bet ikh dir mayn zis lebn,
nit fargesn zolstu mir.

TRANSLATION

My heart, my heart cries in me.
I must now part with you.
My thoughts – anyway you look at it: [lit: this way, that way]
to leave you is hard for me.

Where are you traveling my dear love?
Where are you traveling and leaving me?
Where will I have to search for you?
Tell me in which way?

From each town, from each village
you should write me a letter.
I ask of you, my dear love,
please not to forget me.

“Dus geboyrn finem mentshn” Performed by Frahdl Post

 Dus geboyrn finem mentshn / The Birth of Man
Sung by Frahdl Post
Recorded by Wolf Younin 1976, Workmen’s Circle Nursing Home, Bronx

Commentary by Itzik Gottesman

Usually on the blog we identify the songs by the first line, but the singer Frahdl Post called this song Dus geboyrn finem mentshn – The Birth of Man – so we will stick with that title. It is an adaptation of the first half of the poem Der malekh (The Angel), a poem by Avraham Goldfaden (1840-1908), a section bearing the subtitle “Di yunge neshome – The Young Soul”. It was first printed in Goldfaden’s poetry collection Dos yidele (Zhitomir 1866). We are attaching in 4 scans the entire poem as it appeared in the 1903 Warsaw edition.

Avraham Goldfaden

The poem and song are based on the midrash and Jewish folk belief that before birth the soul of the child knows the entire Torah and all about the world. But right before birth the angel flicks his/her finger hitting the lip and the newborn forgets everything as it enters this world. The indentation above our lips, the philtrum, marks where the angel struck the child.

In Goldfaden’s 25-verse poem and Frahdl Post’s 14-verse song, the angel especially points out the evils of money in Jewish society.

Henry Carrey transcribed the song as he heard his grandmother, Frahdl Post, sing it. After listening, I changed some words of his transcription. Some words remain unclear and we indicate alternatives in brackets. I would suggest that one must read Goldfaden’s original poem to make sense of some of the lines in the song.

Post’s northern Ukrainian dialect includes both turning the “oy” to “ey”, (for example “skheyre instead of “skhoyre”), a change we associate with the northeastern Yiddish dialect (Litvish), as well as vowel changes we usually associate with the southeastern Yiddish dialect – “zugn” instead of “zogn”, “arim” instead of “arum”. The transcription reflects the dialect as much as possible.

Needless to say Frahdl Post’s memory in recalling these long songs is very impressive. Thanks for help in this week’s post go to Henry Carrey and David Braun.

TRANSLITERATION

[Ge]shlufn iz ales eyn halbe nakht
kayn shim mentsh hot zikh nit gerirt.
Nor di zilberne levune aleyn
tsvishn di shtern shpatsirt.

Demolt tsit on der shluf mit makht ,
farshlefert di mentshn di oygn,
iz fin dem himl a malakh arup
[Un iz iber di dekher gefloygn.]

Er halt di hent tsugeltulyet tsu zikh;
a yinge neshume getrugn,
“Vi trugsti mikh? Vi shlepsti mikh ?”
heybt im on di neshume tsi zugn .

“Hob nit keyn meyre, neshumele mayns”
Heybt on der malakh tsu reydn,
“Ikh vel dir bazetsn in a hayzl a fayns
Du vest dortn lebn tsufridn [in freydn].”

“Vest onheybn di velt beser farshteyn
Veln mir dir gebn a kameyeh,
Azey aza zakh hostu keyn mol geyzen
Zi heyst mitn nomen matbeye.”

“Mit der matbeye darfstu visn vi azoy tsu bageyn,
Zi iz magnet, zi iz kishef, zi iz gelt.
Zi ken dir gibn di velt tsu zeyn,
Zi ken dir farvistn dayn velt.“

Dortn zitst eyner in zan tsimer
Er trinkt mit im frayntlekh un kvelt,
Zey vi er kikt im [?] same in bekher aran.
Er vil bay im yarshenen zayn gelt.

Dortn shluft eyner in zayn tsimer.
Er shluft zikh git geshmak
Zey vi er shteyt un kritst mit di tseyn
Er vil hobn dem shlisl fun dem gelt.

Dortn firt eyner ganeyvishe skheyre,
Gur farviklt, farshtelt,
Zey vi er hot di skheyre geganvet
Un er vil zi farkeyfn far gelt.

Dortn oyf dem beys-hakvures
In an ofenem keyver oyfgeshtelt,
Zey vi er tsit di takhrikhim arup
Un er vil zey farkeyfn far gelt.

“Okh! neyn, neyn, neyn, neyn, heyliker malakh
Mit aza velt kim ikh nit oys.
Fir zhe mir beser upet aheym,
Ikh ze du kayn gits nit aroys.“

“Shpatsir dir a bisl arim afn brik,
Shpatsir zikh a bisl arim,
Di vest dokh bald darfn kimen karik
Di zolst nit kimen far im [mit keyn grim.][?]”
[Goldfaden: “Zolst kumen aheym on a mum]

Der hun hot gegebn dem ershtn krey,
A kol fun a kimpeturin,
Azey hot men gegeybn bald a geshrey,
“ A yingele! – mit lange yurn.”

[Azoy vi men hot gegeybn dem geshrey.
“Mazl-tov, a yingl geboyrn”]
Der malakh hot gegebn a shnal in der lip
Un iz karik tsum himl farfloygn.

TRANSLATION

Everything is asleep at midnight.
Not a soul was stirring.
Only the silver moon
Went walking among the stars

Sleep covers all with its power
And makes drowsy all of the people’s eyes.
An angel then came down from heaven
And flew over the rooftops.

He holds his hands tucked close to himself
A young soul he was carrying.
“Where are you carrying me? Where are you dragging me?”
The soul starts saying to him.

“Do not fear, my dear little soul”
the angel begins to speak
“I will place you in a good house.
You will live there happily.”

“When you begin to understand the world better,
we will give you a charm.
Such a thing you have never seen:
It is called by the name – coin.”

“With this coin you will have to know what to do.
It’s a magnet; it’s magic, it’s money.
It can help you see the world.
It can destroy your the world.”

There sits someone with his friend in his room.
He drinks with him as friends and enjoys it.
Look how looks right in the goblet .
He wants to inherit his money.

Another sleeps in his room,
He is sound asleep.
See how he stands and grits his teeth;
He wants to have the key to the money.

Over there someone deals with stolen goods,
Completely wrapped up, disguised.
See how he stole that merchandise
And how he wants to sell if for money.

There on the cemetery
In an open grave [a body] is propped up.
See how he pulls the burial shrouds off it
and wants to sell them for money.

“Ah no, no, no, no holy angel
I cannot survive in such a world.
It would be better if you took me home.
No good do I see here.”

“Take a walk around the bridge,
take a little walk around.
You will soon have to come back
So that you don’t appear before him with make-up [?].”
[In Goldfaden’s original – “So that you return with no blemish”]

The rooster gave its first crow
The voice of a midwife,
And thus was given the first scream
A boy! May he live for many years.

As soon as the first yell was given
“Mazl-tov! A boy was born”.
The angle gave it a flick on the lip
And flew back up to heaven.

Di yunge neshome – The Young Soul, as printed in Goldfaden’s poetry collection Dos yidele (Zhitomir 1866):

“In Odes af a shteyn” Performed by Lifshe Schaechter-Widman

In Odes af a shteyn / In Odessa on a Stone
A song about the 1905 Kiev Pogrom
Sung by Lifshe Schaechter-Widman
Recorded in 1960s Bronx by Beyle Schaechter-Gottesman

Commentary by Itzik Gottesman

In Odes af a shteyn is a variant of the previously posted pogrom ballad In Kiever gas. Lifshe Schaechter-Widman (LSW) tells us in her spoken introduction to this song that she learned it from a survivor of the Kiev pogrom of 1905 (October 31 – November 2, 1905) who came to her Bukovina town, Zvinyetchke. Lifshe was then 12 years old.

So the earlier version, In Kiever gas, which was sung soon after the 1881 Kiev pogrom, was reused for the second Kiev pogrom which took place almost 25 years later.

1905 Kiev Pogrom

In Ruth Rubin’s archive a “Mr. Auslander” sings In Ades af der gas, a combination of the two versions:

And here is another performance of the song by LSW from her 1954 recording session with Leybl Kahn. (The first few seconds have been cut off). Some of the lyrics are different in that earlier recording:

The featured LSW version that we have transcribed (the sound recording presented at the top of this posting) is from the 1960s and recorded by Beyle Schaechter-Gottesman in the Bronx. Though this version is shorter than Braginski’s, it also contains, as do almost all the versions, the rhyme katsapes (derogatory term for Russians) and lapes and the appeal to God in the last verse “to take her away from this world.”

Thanks to Lorin Sklamberg and YIVO Sound Archives for help with this week’s blog post.

TRANSCRIPTION

SPOKEN by LSW: Nokh di Kiever pogromen inem yare [yor] finef, fir, finef,  zenen gekimen tsi loyfn fin Kiev tsi indz mentshn, hot eyner mikh oysgelernt dus lidl.

In Odes af a shteyn, zitst a meydele aleyn.
Zi zitst in zi veynt.
Zi zitst in zi veynt, ir harts iz farshteynt.
A neduve bay yeydn zi beyt.

Di Kiever katsapes mit zeyere lapes
hobn getin mayn faters hoyz tsebrekhn.
Dus hoyz tsebrokhn, deym tatn geshtokhn.
Di mame iz far shrek imgekimen.

Vi groys iz mayn shand oystsushtrekn di hant
un tsu beytn bay laytn gelt, un tsi beytn bay laytn gelt.
Oy, Got derbarem, shtrek oys dayn arem.
un nem mekh shoyn tsi fin der velt.

TRANSLATION

In Odessa on a rock, sits a girl alone.
She sits and she weeps.
She sits and weeps, her heart has turned to stone.
For alms from everyone she begs.

The Kiev “lousy Russians” and their paws,
Did destroy my father’s house.
The house destroyed, my father stabbed.
My mother died of fright.

How great is my shame to hold out my hand
and to beg for money from people,
and to beg for money from people.
O, God have mercy, and stretch out your arm,
and take me away from this world.  

“Krakovyake-vyane” Performed by Tsunye Rymer

Krakovyake-vyane
Mocking Yiddish song to accompany the
Polish dance Krakowiak

Sung by Tsunye Rymer,
recorded by Itzik Gottesman, 1985 NYC
Commentary by Itzik Gottesman.

Krakowiak by Zofia Stryjeńska, 1927

Rymer sings:
Krakovyake-vyane
shtup aroys di pani.
Di pani tor men nisht shtupn.
Zets ir oys di tseyn.

Di tseyn tor men nit zetsn.
Dos ponim tor men nisht netsn.
(Rymer spoken) Un azoy vayter.

TRANSLATION of Rymer’s Version:

Krakoviake-vyane
Push out the lady.
You shouldn’t push the lady;
Knock out her teeth.

You shouldn’t knock out her teeth,
You shouldn’t soak the face.
(Rymer spoken) …and so on.

In the spirit of Purim this week, we present a parodic dance song. Tsunye Rymer sings this fragment of a Yiddish song to accompany the Polish Krakowiak dance. This particular tune is known as Krakowiaczek jeden. Here is a version on Youtube of this melody, which is considered a children’s song:

To read about the Krakowiak dance, costume and music click here.

The Krakowiak was a complicated dance and often someone had to lead the dance (אוספֿירן דעם טאַנץ) and call out the moves, so it makes sense that a Yiddish parodic text would be created. Mariza Nawrocka was kind enough to identify which Krakowiak Rymer sang and to translate the Polish song for us; here are the first two verses.

1. Krakowiaczek jeden / one Krakowiaczek (little habitant of Kraków)
   miał koników siedem, / had 7 horses
   pojechał na wojnę, / he went on a war
   został mu się jeden. / only 1 remained
2. Siedem lat wojował, / He was fighting 7 years
   szabli nie wyjmował,  /  he was not takeing out his sabre
   szabla zardzewiała,  / the sabre got rusty
   wojny nie widziała. / it didn’t see the war.

Though Rymer’s version is incomplete we can add more verses from other sources.

In I. L. Cahan Yidishe folkslider mit melodyes (NY YIVO, 1952) there are more stanzas and versions, originally Cahan had all of these versions under the category “Krakovyanke”. Attached at the end of this post are scans of the songs in Yiddish as published in Cahan. (Cahan1, Cahan2).

He did not publish any music with these texts:

From Chudnov, (YID – Tshidnev) Volhynia,Ukraine:

Krakoviak, herits,
Shtup aroys dem porets.
Az er vil nisht geyn
Zets im oys di tseyn!

 Krakoviatska ane,
shtup aroys di pani.
Az di pani vil nit geyn,
Hak ir oys di tseyn!  (#225, page 227)

From Brailov, (YID – Bralev) Podolya, Ukraine:

Yakov, yakov-yane,
shtup aroys di pani!
Di pani vil nit geyn.
Zets ir oys di tseyn!

Di tseyn tor men nit zetsn,
Dos ponim tor men nit netsn.
Azoy vi in Ades,
Azoy in Bukarest!  (#227, page 228)

From Priluk, (YID – Priluk)  Poltaver region, Ukraine:

Krako-krako-vyana,
Shlep arayn di pani;
Di pani vil nit geyn.
Shlep ir far di tseyn!   (#228, page 228)

From Bessarabia or Odessa:

From Zalmen Rosenthal’s collection in Reshumot vol. 2, 1926/27 in his category “Children’s Songs”

Nake, nake, nitse
shtup aroys di pritse.
Di pritse vil nit geyn.
Zets ir oys di tseyn.

Di tseyn tor men nit zetsn.
un dos ponim tor men nit netsn.

I. L. Cahan also considered a song about Beylke, though textually different and with no mention of Krakowiak, to be part of this parodic Krakowiak tradition. I assume he determined this by the melody. Versions of this “Beylke” Krakowiak song can be found in Cahan 1952, Bastomski 1923 and Tsaytshrift volume 2-3, Minsk, 1928.

Special thanks for this post to Mariza Nawrocka and  Paul Glasser.

From I. L. Cahan Yidishe folkslider mit melodyes (NY YIVO, 1952):

“Di goldene land” Performed by Paul Lipnick

Di goldene land / The Golden Land
A song by Elyokum Zunser
sung by Paul Lipnick

Commentary by Itzik Gottesman

This week’s Yiddish song comes from Houston resident Elton Lipnick: an old home recording of his father Paul Lipnick singing the Eliyokum Zunser (1836-1913) song Di goldene medine (The Golden Land).

Paul (Paltiel) Lipnick (1903 – 1997) was born in Balbirishuk, now Balbieriskis, Lithuania.  He arrived in Galveston, TX with is mother and older sister June 10, 1907 – the first year of the “Galveston Movement/Plan” which diverted immigrant Jews from the East Coast to the southwest US.

Paul’s father Sorach arrived earlier to Ellis Island in 1904, and it is in NYC that he apparently learned this song which his son then learned from him in Texas. According to Elton Lipnick the song was recorded sometime between 1962 – 1976. Paul spoke fluent Yiddish.

Three generations of Lipnicks: Paul, his son Elton, and his grandson David (taken 1990 -1992).

The bracketed numbers in the transliteration correspond to the same lines in the original Zunser Yiddish text as found in The Works of Elyokum Zunser: A Critical Edition edited by Mordkhe Schaechter, YIVO 1964. By comparing the two, one can follow how this song was folklorized. This Yiddish text is attached, as is the music as found in Geklibene lider fun Eliyokum Zunser NY 1928.

According to Zunser’s biographer Sol Liptzin, he wrote “Columbus and Washington,” a song that lauds the American ideal of freedom and democracy, during his last days in Minsk and completed it on board the ship in 1889. Di Goldene Land was written in 1891 expresses his disappointment after just a couple of years in NYC.

On YouTube there is a more theatrical recording of this song by the Jewish People’s Philharmonic Chorus, of New York from 2014, conducted by Binyumen Schaechter.

In Paul Lipnick’s performance the first few words are missing but have been added in brackets according to the printed version of Zunser’s songs. Though quite popular in its time, I have found no LP/CD version of this song. Followers of this blog will note the resemblance in the melody to an earlier posted Zunser song Rokhl mevakho a boneho.

Thanks to Dr. Melissa Weininger at Rice University for making the connection with Elton Lipnick and to Elton Lipnick for the tape, photo and biographical information.

TRANSLITERATION

 [Fun Amerike hob ikh]  als kind gehert [1]
ven tsvey fleygn redn banand.
Vi gliklekh me lebt af Columbus’ erd;
es iz dokh a goldene land.

Ikh bin ahingekumenת dem seyfer durkhgekukt [5]
fil trern, troyer, shteyt af yeder blat gedrukt.
In di enge gasn vu di mase shteyt gedikht,
fil oreme, fintsere; der umglik ligt zey afn gezikht.

Zey shteyen fun fri biz bay nakht [9]
di lipn farbrent un farshmakht.
Der iz mafkir zayn kind far a “sent”
dem varft men fun veynung far rent.

In shtub iz der dales dokh ful. [93]
Ot rayst men op kinder fun “skul.”
Zey blaybn fargrebt, on farshatnd,
un dos ruft men “a goldene land.”

In New Yorker downtown to git nor a blik [81]
vu di luft iz a “regeler” pest.
Men ligt in di tenements a kop oyf a kop
vi di hering in di barlekh geprest

Ver ken dos tsuzen dem tsar [89]
Vi kinderlekh shpringen fun kar
mit di newspapers ful in di hent.
vi zey farkiln zikh tsu fardinen a “sent.”

In shtub iz der dales dokh ful,
ot rayst men op kinder fun “skul”.
Zey blaybn fargrebt, on farshatnd,
un dos ruft men a “goldene land”.

Dem arbeters yor shvimt im arum[17]
in a taykh fun zayn eygenem shveys.
Er horevet in “bizi,” un hungert in “slek.”
Un iz shtendik in shrek mit zayn “plays”. [place]

Git eynem di mashine a ris.[29]
Ot blaybn di shteper on fis.
Der on a fus un der on a hant.
Un dos ruft men a “goldene land”.

Nor lebn, lebt dokh der gvir in ir. [97]
Er bazitst dokh a kenigraykh.
Vos in Europe a firsht iz in America a gvir.
Der makht iz fun beydn glaykh.

Es shat im keyn konkurentsi
zayn kapital iz greys. [103]
Er git a shpil a vaylinker
vern ale kleyner bald oys.

Vi groys iz zayn makht un zayn vort
Er hot dokh di deye in kort.
Iber im gilt nisht keyn shtand [111]
tsu im iz di goldene land.

TRANSLATION

[About America I ] had heard as a child
when two people conversed.
How lucky one lives on Columbus’ ground;
It is truly a Golden Land.

I arrived and read through this “holy book”.
Many tears, sorrow is printed on each page.
In the narrow streets where the masses are thick,
Poor, dark; bad fortune is seen on their faces.

They stand from morning to night.
The lips burnt and faint.
This one sacrifices his child for a cent,
That one gets thrown out of his flat because of rent.

The home is full of poverty.
Children are ripped out of school.
They remain ignorant, unintelligent,
and you call this “a Golden Land”

In downtown New York: take a look
where the air is regularly polluted.
The tenements are crowded with people,
like herrings squeezed in barrels.

Who could stand and watch this sorrow
as children jump from the car [trolley car]
with hands full of newspapers
as they catch cold to earn a cent.

The home is full of poverty.
Children are taken out of school.
They remain ignorant, unintelligent,
and you call this “a Golden Land”.

The worker’s year swims around him
in a river of his own sweat.
He labors when its busy, starves when its “slack” [no work]
And is always fearful of his “place” [place in line for work]

The machine gives someone a tear
leaving the leather workers with no legs.
This one has no foot, that one no hand
And this you call “a Golden Land”.

Yet there are the wealthy who live there,
he possesses an entire kingdom.
What in Europe was a prince, is in America a wealthy man;
the power of both is equal.

No competition can harm him;
his capital is large.
He plays with them awhile
and soon is rid of all the smaller ones.

How great is his power and his word.
He has the authority in his pocket.
No social position applies to him.
For him is this a “Golden Land.”

“Ot her ikh vider a heymishe lidele” Performed by Yudeska (Yehudis) Eisenman

 

Commentary by Itzik Gottesman

This week’s post features a song, Ot her ikh vider a heymishe lidele (אָט הער איך ווידער אַ היימישע לידעלע / Now I Hear Again a Hometown Song), that was apparently very popular in the 1910s and 1920s but has been mostly forgotten today. This field recording of  the singer Yehudis Eisenman was made by Beyle Schaechter-Gottesman at the same time as Bald vet zayn a regn in the Bronx, 1993.

The poem is by the poet Yoysef Yofe (יוסף יפֿה /Joseph Jaffe) and has been titled Hemat, Heim, and Mayn Litvishe shtetele among others. Yofe was born in 1865 in Salant, near Kaunas/Kovne. He came to the US in 1892 and died in 1938 in the Bronx, NY. (Scans of  Yiddish text taken from Yidishe khrestomatye, ed. Avrom Reisin, 1908 are attached). Yofe was also the writer of at least one other Yiddish song, Dem zeydns brokhe (Grandfather’s Blessing).

Yoysef Yofe

 In Zalmen Reisin’s Leksikon fun der yidisher literatur, prese un filologye, volume 1, Vilna, 1926, this poem-turned-song by Yofe is specifically mentioned:

זייער פּאָפּולער איז בשעתו געווען זײַן ליד „היימאַט” (אָט זע איך ווידער מײַן היימישעס שטעטעלע) צו ערשט געדרוקט אין “יוד”, וואָס איז פֿיל געזונגען געוואָרן.

“Very popular in its time was his poem ‘Heimat’ (Here I see again my hometown), first published in Der Yud which was often sung.” I believe that Eisenman’s melody is the one sung in the 1920s.

In the Robert and Molly Freedman Jewish Sound Archive at the University of Pennsylvania, a version with the same melody can be heard on the CD Herman Snyder and Friends at Home which is from a field recording cassette made by Robert Freedman in Florida in the 1970s or 80s. We are attaching that wonderful recording at the end of the post.

If this is the Herman Snyder whom I think it is, then his Yiddish name was Khayim Shnayder and he and fellow folksinger Isaac Rymer were best friends in NY. Though I never met him and never heard him before, Shnayder was known for his wonderful Yiddish folksinging and I was so glad to hear this field tape recording. You can also hear Rymer talking or singing along in the background of many songs of this CD.

Sidor Belarsky recorded this song with a different melody under the title Mayn Shtetele on the LP Sidor Belarsky in a Yiddish Song Recital (1964). The composer of the Belarsky version was Paul Discount. Another melody by the composer David Botwinik was recorded by Cantor Henry Rosenblat, Cantor Moshe Ganchoff,  and Lisa Wilson with the title Di litvishe shtetele. Wilson’s performance can be heard on the CD of David Botwinik’s compositions From Holocaust to Life.

Chana and Joseph Mlotek discuss this song in their Forverts column Perl fun der yidisher literatur (Sept. 26, 1971, April 19, 1996), but I could not obtain a copy of these articles.

Thanks to Robert Freedman for his assistance with this week’s blog entry.

Recording of Yehudis Eisenman:

Recording of Herman Snyder:

Ot her ikh vider a heymishe lidele
Ot ze ikh vider dem eyruv, dem tsoym.
Bistu dos take mayn heymishe shtetele
Oder ikh ze dir in troym?

Ot shteyt di kretshmele noent lebn grobn do,
hekdeshl bedele, alts vi geven.
Kleyninke oreme, heymishe shtetele,
Lang hob ikh dir nit gezen.

Ot shteyt der beys-medreshl, a khurve, a moyerl.
Fentster tsebrokhene, krumlekhe vent.
Shtibelekh kvorimlekh, dekhelekh gezunkene,
vider hob ikh aykh derkent.

Zogt mir vu zaynen yetst mayne khaverimlekh
lebn zey, vandlen zey, zaynen zey toyt?
Zing fun dem vigele, zing fun dem tsigele,
zing fun der yidisher noyt.

Tsit zikh mayn lidele, eynzam un troyerik,
trerelekh heysinke gor on a shir.
Zise derinerungen, kindershe, herlekhe
lebn in harts uf bay mir.

Now I hear once again a hometown song,
now I see again the eruv, the fence.
Are you indeed my hometown
or am I seeing you in a dream?

Here stands the tavern near the ditch.
Poorhouse and bathhouse as they were before.
Delicate poor ones, my hometown,
Long have I not seen you.

Here stands the house of prayer, a ruin, a stone wall,
broken windows, crooked walls.
Little houses like graves, sunken roofs –
I have recognized you again.

Tell me where are my friends now?
Are they alive, have they wandered, are they dead?
Sing of the cradle; sing of the little goat,
sing of Jewish poverty.

My poem stretches lonely and sad.
Hot tears without end.
Sweet, beautiful memories of childhood,
live in my heart.