Seyder nakht (Di fentster, zey lakhtn)/ Seder Night (The Windows Illuminate) A Passover song from the American Folkshuls. Words: Naftoli Gross. Music: Mikhl Gelbart. Sung and recorded April 12, 2022 by Gitl Schaechter-Viswanath, Teaneck New Jersey
Naftoli Gross (1896-1956)
Di fentster zey lakhtn mit yontif in blendn. Di tishn – mit gildene koyses in kares, koyses in kares. Di shtiber – mit kinder in vinder-legendn. Zey zingen – fin gur ale vinklen in shpares. vinklen in shpares
The windows illuminate with festival and dazzle. The tables – with golden goblets and seder plates goblets and seder plates The homes – with children and wonder legends, they sing from every corner and crevice, corner and crevice.
Di tirn fin shtiber, zey shteyen breyt ofn. Ver s’darf zol hant kimen tsi indz un zol esn, kimen in zol esn. Di kindershe oygn mit yontif in hofn. Eliyohu vet kimen in keynem fargesn, keynem fargesn.
The doors of homes are wide open. Whoever needs to, should come to us and eat, come and eat. The childlike eyes with holiday and hope, Elijah should come and forget no one, Forget no one.
COMMENTARY by Itzik Gottesman
This song entitled “Seyder nakht”, with words by Naftoli Gross (1896-1956) and music by Mikhl Gelbart (1889 – 1962) was published in 1948. It was sung at the beginning of the Workman’s Circle and Sholem Aleichem folkshuls’ seders in the 1960s and probably earlier. Since I could find no recording of the song, I asked Gitl Schaechter-Viswanath, who remembered it from Sholem Aleichem Shul #21 in the Bronx to record it.
Gitl Schaechter-Viswanath is a Yiddish poet and the chair of the League for Yiddish in New York City.Below the song as published in the Sholem Aleichem folkshul Passover Haggadah, circa 1968:
Eyns ver veyst? / Who Knows One? A Passover song sung by Dr. Thelma Borodkin. Recorded by Dr. Hankus Netsky, 2021
Dr. Thelma Borodkin
Eyns ver veyst? Who knows one? Eyns, eyns, ikh, ikh veys. One, one, I, I know. Ikh, ikh veys I, I know Eyns iz Got aleyn, iz Got aleyn. One is God himself, is God himself. Der har funem himl un fun der erd. The Lord of heaven and earth,
Tsvey ver veyst? Two who knows? Tsvey, tsvey, ikh, ikh veys. Two, two I , I know Ikh, ikh veys I, I know Tsvey likhes. Two tablets Eyns iz Got aleyn, iz Got aleyn. One is God himself, is God himself. Der har funem himl un fun der erd. The Lord of heaven and earth,
Dray ver veyst? Three who knows? Dray, dray, ikh, ikh veys. Three, three I , I, know. Ikh, ikh veys. I, I know Dray futers. Three fathers [patriarchs] Tsvey likhes. Two tablets Eyns iz Got aleyn, iz Got aleyn. One is God himself, is God himself. Der har funem himl un fun der erd. The Lord of heaven and earth.
Fir ver veyst? Four who knows? fir, fir ikh, ikh veys. Four, four I, I know. Ikh, ikh veys. I, I know Fir muters. Four mothers [matriarchs] Dray futers….. Three fathers….etc.
Finef ver veyst? Five how knows? Finef, finef ikh, ikh veys. Five, five I, I know Ikh ikh veys I, I know Finef khamushim fin der Toyre Five books of Moses in the Torah Fir muters…. Four mothers…etc.
Zeks ver veyst? Six who knows? Zeks, zeks ikh, ikh veys. Six, six I, I know. Ikh, ikh veys. I, I know. Zeks mishnayes. Six “orders” of the Mishnah. Finef khamushim in der Toyre…. Five books of Moses in the Torah…etc.
Zibn ver veyst? Seven who knows? Zibn, zibn. ikh, ikh veys. Seven, seven I, I know Ikh, ikh veys. I, I know Zibn teyg in der vokh. Seven days in the week Zeks mishnayes… Six orders of the Mishnah...
Akht ver veyst? Eight who knows? Akht, akht, ikh, ikh veys. Eight, eight, I, I, know. Ikh, ikh veys. I, I know. Akht teyg tsi der mile. Eight days to the bris Zibn teg in der vokh… Seven days in the week….etc.
Nayn ver veyst? Nine who knows? Nayn, nayn ikh, ikh veys. Nine, nine, Ikh, ikh veys. I, I know Nayn khadoshim in deym trugn. Nine months of pregnancy Akht teyg tsi der mile… Eight days to the bris…etc
Tsen ver veyst? Ten who knows? Tsen, tsen, ikh, ikh veys. Ten, ten, I, I know Ikh, ikh veys. I , I know Tsen dibres. Ten commandments Nayn khadushim…. Nine months to the pregnancy….etc.
Elef ver veyst? Eleven who knows? Elef, elef, ikh, ikh veys. Eleven, eleven, I, I know. Ikh, ikh veys. I, I know Elef shtern in deym himl. Eleven stars in the sky Tsen dibres… Ten commandments….etc.
Tsvelef ver veyst? Twelve who knows? Tsvelf, tsvelf, ikh ikh veys. Twelve, twelve I, I know. ikh ikh veys. I, I know. Tsvelef shvotim, Twelve tribes Elef shtern in deym himl… Eleven starts in the sky…etc.
Draystn ver veyst? Thirteen who knows? Draytsn, draytsn, ikh, ikh veys. Thirteen, thirteen I, I know. Ikh, ikh veys. I, I know. Draytsn mides hot der Got. Thirteen attributes has God Tsvelef shvotim… Twelve tribes….etc.
………….
Eyns iz Got aleyn, iz Got aleyn. One is God himself, God himself Der har fun dem himl un fun der erd. Master of heaven and earth Der har funem himl un fun der erd. Master of heaven and earth
Commentary by Hankus Netsky
Dr. Thelma Borodkin grew up on Hopkinson Avenue in Brownsville, Brooklyn. Her parents came from Ukraine, her mother from Dnietopietrovsk and her father from Stara Constantine. She remembers her mother singing constantly in Yiddish, Russian, Ukrainian and English while she worked, and her mother taught her a wide array of Yiddish Theatre songs that she heard at the nearby Hopkinson Theatre.
Dr. Borodkin attended Jefferson High School and the local Hebrew Educational Society School. She became fluent in Hebrew and made Aliyah twice. She received her Ph.D in English and taught writing for twenty-three years at Lehman College. Most recently (pre-pandemic), she taught a course on works by female Yiddish writers at Lester Senior Housing in New Jersey. She remembers this wonderful and little-known Yiddish version of “Echod Mi Yodea” from her childhood family seders in Brooklyn, and her children and grandchildren keep the tradition going to the present day.
Thanks for this week’s post to Thelma Borodkin, Hankus Netsky and Arun Viswanath.
Di Shpanishe Kholere / The Spanish Contagion Lyrics by Harry Boens (Bennett), Music by Nathan Hollandar. Performance by Cantor Sam Weiss.
Commentary by Cantor Sam Weiss
Around 15 years ago my friend Michael Bennett discovered his grandfather’s name (see Michael Bennett’s post about his grandfather, Harry Boens / Bennett) listed as lyricist on a piece of Yiddish sheet music about the 1918 Spanish flu. As there were no extant recordings or performances of the song, in 2010 he emailed me to see if I could arrange to get it recorded. I glanced at the lyrics and was quickly captivated by their colloquial directness and interesting vocabulary. In short order I printed out the file, placed the sheets on my electronic keyboard, ran through the song, and emailed the mp3 to Michael.
Image courtesy of Michael Bennett; all rights reserved.
The song remained our private little adventure until COVID-19 reared its head and Michael reached out to me again: “…Maybe it’s an appropriate time to release to the public your rendition of my grandfather’s lament.” I hesitated, not really thinking of that quick take as a “performance, “and his idea remained dormant. Right before the High Holidays, however, it occurred to me that the Yiddish Song of the Week website would be an appropriate vehicle for sharing this gem, and Itzik Gottesman agreed to host it along with Michael’s back story on his grandfather.
Cantor Sam Weiss by Robert Kalfus
As the song is equal parts humor and pathos, I adopted a theatrical singing style along with the “stage Yiddish” dialect suggested by the printed notation. The initial sound in the Yiddish word for “Spanish” is clearly intended to be pronounced “S” rather than “Sh,” being spelled here with a samekh in place of the standard shin, and that is how I sang it.
In the case of the word for “heart” I vacillated between the standard pronunciation harts and the printed word hertz. In these two cases the transcription reflects standard Yiddish spellings rather than the pronunciations heard on the recording; the remaining words are transcribed as sung. Although the notation indicates a repeat of the final phrase in the verses, these repeats were skipped in verses 3-6.
I was struck by an interesting word that occurs three times, neveyre, which I have translated as “plague.” Strictly speaking neveyre is simply the colloquial version of aveyre, meaning “sin” (the “n” resulting from conflating the two words anaveyre), but in this context neveyre implies a divine punishment that may have come about as a result of our sins. Although I have yet to find this particular meaning in any Yiddish dictionary or thesaurus, the usage is amply supported by Jewish lore from the Ten Plagues onwards. The song itself, moreover, expresses a plea for God’s compassion (to reverse the punishment, as it were) as well as the darkly comical idea of the Spanish flu as Woodrow Wilson’s vengeance for Germany’s role in World War I.
The title word kholere is especially noteworthy. Unlike the English word “cholera,” it has a much broader connotation than any specific type of illness. Indeed, the technical name of the disease appears only on the Yiddish lyrics back cover page as the title—but nowhere in the song—as DiShpanishe influentsiye. In verse 5 kholere appears unmodified by Shpanishe; I therefore translate it as “contagion.” Kholere is found in a great number of Yiddish curses where the speaker is not particularly concerned with which krenk befalls the victim, as long as it is grueling and punishing. Indeed “punishing” is the word’s operative intention, as in the case of neveyre. Note the antiquated spelling of the word on the title page with a khes instead of the standard khof. This older Yiddish orthography hints at a presumed Hebrew origin, as if kholere were a retributive disease related to kadokhes (biblical kodokhas), which is always spelled with a khes. The back cover lyrics are below.
TRANSCRIPTION AND TRANSLATIONbyCantor Sam Weiss
1. Ikh gey mir arim in strit fartrakht Say bay tug in say bay nakht. In mayn hartzn kokht dus blit, Ze’endik vi mentshn faln in strit.
REFRAIN:
Vayl di gantse velt iz yetst in trobl, In yeder eyner zikht dem knobl.
I walk the streets deep in thought, Be it day, be it night. The blood is seething in my heart As I watch people collapsing in the street.
REFRAIN:
Because the whole world is now in trouble, And everyone is searching for garlic.
2. Mentshn zitsn in hoyz mit der neveyre, Zey hobn moyre far der Shpanisher kholere. Nemt mayn edvays in seyft zikh fin dem trobl, Trinkt a glezl vayn in est dem knobl.
REFRAIN: Vayl di gantse velt…
Everyone is stuck at home with this plague, They’re all afraid of the Spanish flu. Take my advice and save yourself from trouble, Drink a glass of wine and eat some garlic.
REFRAIN: Because the whole world…
3. Der Daytsh iz oykh a groyser diplomat! Er hot gevolt farnikhtn di velt vi a rats; Wilson hot ober genimen zikh di ere In geshikt dem Daytsh di Shpanishe kholere.
REFRAIN: Vayl di gantse velt…
The Germans are some diplomats… Seeking to destroy the world as if it were a rat; But Wilson stepped right up And sent the Germans the Spanish flu!
REFRAIN: Because the whole world…
4. Sobveys, kars, gepakt oykh fil mit mentshn; Ikh bet bay dir, oy Got, di zolst indz bentshn! Nem fin indz oykh di neveyre In hit indz up fin der Shpanisher kholere.
REFRAIN: Vayl di gantse velt…
Subways, cars, all packed with people; I beg you, God, please bless us! Remove the plague from us too, And shield us from the Spanish flu.
REFRAIN: Because the whole world…
5. Barbers loyfn arim azoy vi di nyankes; Fin hoyz tsi hoyz shteln zey ayedn bankes. Zey aleyn trugn arim di neveyre; Zey danken Got es halt on di kholere!
REFRAIN: Vayl di gantse velt…
Barbers scurry about as if they were nurses, From house to house, with cupping glass treatments; They themselves are carriers of the plague, Thanking God that the contagion perseveres!
REFRAIN: Because the whole world…
6. Mikh tsi hern zingen is nisht kayn vinder; Mentshn, past nor oyf of ayere kinder. Di froyen in Eyrope zenen geblibn vi ofn yakor, In di mener in Amerike brenen vi a flaker
REFRAIN: Vayl di gantse velt…
Don’t act surprised to hear me singing; Folks, just watch over your children. The wives are all marooned in Europe While their husbands are ablaze in America
REFRAIN: Because the whole world…
Below images courtesy of Michael Bennett; all rights reserved.
Eyns, eyns ver veyst vos dos iz eyns? / One, one, who knows one?
A Passover Song sung by Professor David Fishman in NYC. Recorded through internet by Itzik Gottsman, Austin TX. March 25, 2020
Commentary by Itzik Gottesman
The Corona virus lockdown did not deter us from recording this gem for Passover. Fishman learned this from Rabbi Herschel Schacter Z’L (1917 – 2013), long time rabbi of the Mosholu Jewish Center in the Bronx.
Rabbi Herschel Schacter
This version has eight verses but on Wiki Source.org we found a version with more verses extending to thirteen. Here is the link which is only the text in Yiddish.
In this Wiki Source version all the previous verses get repeated each time, paralleling other “Ekhod mi yodea” (“Who Knows One”) types of Passover songs such as “Mu asapru, mu adabru”.
Illustration of song “Who Knows One” by painter Shalom of Safed (1887-1980). Reprinted in: A Feast of History by Chaim Raphael. London and Jerusalem: Weidenfeld and Nicholson, 1972.
At the end of this post we have given the translated and translated extra five verses of the Wiki Source song. Fishman’s version in Yiddish is also given at the very end.
The ethnomusicologist Michael Lukin has sent us additional information on this song including a discussion of it in the Yiddish Forverts newspaper and a similar melody found in a Ukrainian song from the former Yugoslav region.
TRANSLITERATION
Fishman, spoken: “Dos iz a lid vos ikh ken fun mayne kinderyorn. Ikh hob dos gehert fun dem rov, Harav Schachter fun undzer shil. S’iz aza yidishe ‘Ekhod mi yodea'” (This is a song from my childhood. I heard it from Rabbi Schachter from our synagogue. It’s a Yiddish ‘Ekhod mi yodea’).
1) Eyns, eyns ver veyst vos dos iz eyns?
Ikh veys, ikh veys, ikh veys vos dos iz eyns.
Eyns iz hakodesh borekh hu.
Der eybershter in himl. Eyner bistu!
Eyns iz hakodesh borekh hu.
Der Eybershter in himl. Eyner bistu!
2) Tsvey, tsvey ver veyst vos dos iz tsvey?
Ikh veys, ikh veys, un ikh zog dir zey.
Tsvey lukhes fun sapirshteyn,
Geshribn hot af zey Der Eybershter aleyn.
Tsvey lukhes fun sapirshteyn.
Geshribn hot af zey Der Eybershter aleyn.
3) Dray, dray ver veyst vos dos iz dray?
Ikh veys, ikh veys, un ikh zing zikh tsu derbay.
Dray oves zenen bay undz do.
Avrom, Yitskhok, Yankev zikhroyno livrokho.
Dray oves zenen bay undz do.
Avrom, Yitskhok, Yankev zikhroyno livrokho.
4) Fir, fir ver veyst vos dos iz fir?
Ikh veys, ikh veys, un ikh zog zey dir.
Fir imoes zenen bay undz do.
Sore, Rivke, Rokhl un Leyo.
Fir imoes zenen bay undz do.
Sore, Rivke, Rokhl un Leyo.
5) Finf, finf ver veyst vos dos iz finf?
Ikh veys, ikh veys, ikh veys vos dos iz finf.
Di Toyre iz tseteylt af finef sforim.
Breyshis, Shmoys, Vayikro, Bamidbor un Devorim.
Di Toyre iz tseteylt af finf sforim.
Breyshis, Shmoys, Vayikro Bamidbor un Devorim.
6) Zeks, zeks ver veyst vos dos iz zeks?
Ikh veys, ikh veys, ikh veys vos dos iz zeks..
Af zeks khalokim efn uf un ze:
iz bay undz tseteylt di Toyre-shebal-pe
Af zeks khalokim efn uf un ze:
iz bay undz tseteylt di Toyre-shebal-pe
7) Zibn, zibn ver veyst vos dos iz zibn? Ikh veys, ikh veys, ikh veys vos dos iz zibn. Zeks teg a vokh arbetstu,
Der zibeter tog iz shabes, shtel zikh op un ru!
Zeks teg a vokh arbetstu.
Der zibeter tog iz shabes, shtel zikh op un ru!
8) Akht, akht ver veyst vos dos iz akht?
Ikh veys, ikh veys, ikh veys vos dos iz akht.
Akht teg vert a yingl alt.
Makht men im a bris un er vert gemalt.
Akht teg vert a yingl alt.
Makht men im a bris un er vert gemalt.
TRANSLATION
One, one who knows what is one?
I know, I know, I know what is one.
One is Blessed be his name.
God in heaven. You are one!
Two, two, who knows what is two?
I know, I know and tell you thus.
Two tablets made of sapphire,
written by God himself.
Three, three who knows what is three?
I know, I know, and I sing along.
We have three patriarchs:
Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, may their memory be blessed.
Four, four, who knows what is four?
I know, I know and I’ll tell you who they are.
We have four matriarchs.
Sarah, Rebecca, Rachel and Leah.
Five, five who knows what is five?
I know, I know, I know what is five.
The Torah is divided into five books:
Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers and Deuteronomy
Six, six who knows what is six?
I know, I know, I know what is six.
Six divisions, open up and see:
that is how our oral Torah is divided.
Seven, seven, who knows what is seven?
I know, I know, I know what is seven.
Six days a week you are working.
The seventh day is Sabbath, take a break and rest.
Eight, eight who knows eight?
I know, I know, I know what is eight.
When a boy becomes eight days old
he has a bris and is circumcised.
WIKISOURCE VERSION With five additional verses
9) Nayn, nayn ver veyst vos dos iz nayn?
Ikh veys, ikh veys, ikh veys vos dos iz nayn.
Nayn monatn vert ayngeshtelt
eyder a kind kumt af der velt.
Nine, nine, who knows what is nine?
I know, I know, I know what is nine.
It has been established that Nine months
must pass for a child to come into this world
10) Tsen, tsen ver veyst vos dos iz tsen?
Ikh veys, ikh veys, ikh veys vos dos is tsen.
Oyf barg Sinai hot undzer Got
Undz gegebn di tsen gebot.
Ten, ten, who knows what is ten?
I know, I know, I know what is ten.
On Mount Sinai our God
gave us the ten commandments.
11) Elf, elf ver veyst vos dos iz elf?
Ikh veys, ikh veys, ikh veys vos dos is elf.
Akhod oser lozt unz hern
Yoysefs kholem un di elf shtern.
Eleven, eleven, who knows what is eleven?
I know, I know, I know what is eleven.
Eleven teaches us –
Joseph’s dream and the eleven stars.
12) Tsvelf, tsvelf ver veyst vos dos iz tsvelf?
Ikh veys, ikh veys, ikh veys vos dos is tsvelf.
Yankevs kinder fun dor tsu dor.
Di tsvelf shvotim un Ruven iz der bkhor.
Twelve, twelve, who knows what is twelve?
I know, I know, I know what is twelve.
Jacob’s children from generation to generation:
the twelve tribes and Reuben is the oldest.
13) Draytsn, draytsn ver veyst vos dos iz draytsn?
Ikh veys, ikh veys, ikh veys vos dos is draytsn.
A Got fun rakhmones iz undzer boyre.
Draytsn mides lernt undz di Toyre.
Thirteen, thirteen who knows what is thirteen?
I know, I know, I know what is thirteen.
A God of mercy is our creator:
thirteen attributes teaches us the Torah.
Indikes Berekes / Turkeys Beets
A Passover mnemonic remembered by Khave Rosenblatt
Recorded by Beyle Schaechter-Gottesman, Jerusalem 1974
This is not a song but a partial alphabetical list to remember all the things needed for Passover. Khave Rosenblatt learned this from her Bessarabian mother. She ends with the letter “lamed” and leaves out (maybe intentionally?) the word for the letter “yud”. Additionally, Rosenblatt left out here the letter kof for “koyses” but added it on a later version.
There is a more well-known song “Alef-indikes” that compares the poor man with the rich man, with a rhyme for each letter. (See M. Kipnis 1949 page 199).
Burikes af Peysekh / Beets for Passover Words and music by Solomon Golub
Sung by Abba Rubin, recorded by Rachel Rubin, 1991 Commentary by Itzik Gottesman
This field recording of Abba Rubin singing Burikes af Peysekh, a comic song by composer Solomon Golub, was collected by his daughter Rachel Rubin in a course on Yiddish folklore that I taught at the University of Pennsylvania, summer 1991.
Cover of 1921 Song Sheet for Golub’s Burikes fun Peysakh published in New York.
There are two 78 rpm recordings of this song, but I have not found any more recent ones on LP record or CD. Abba Rubin sings it in a folkier style that he learned from his parents.
Abba Rubin
Abba Rubin, the son of Polish and Russian parents, grew up in Liberty, NY. He has a Ph.D in English literature and has taught at Haifa University, University of Alabama in Birmingham and Vanderbilt. He and his wife are now retired and now live in Pikesville Md.
The composer Solomon Golub was born in 1887 in Dubelen, near Riga, Latvia and came to the US in 1906. He died in 1952. There is a copyright for Burekes af peysakh as early as 1918, but we are attaching a 1921 songsheet with music and text in Yiddish. An extensive biography and appreciation of Golub and his work can be found on the Milken Archive website.
By the way, this is not the only Yiddish song about having no red beets for Passover. Listen to Cantor Pinchas Jassinowsky sing Burekes:
Next is a 78 rpm recording of the song Burekes af peysekh, sung by I. Leonard Blum from 1919 (courtesy of Lorin Sklamberg and the YIVO Sound Archives):
Finally, Burikes af Peysakh was also written about in The Chocolate Lady’s (Eve Jochnowitz) Jewish food blog In moyl arayn in 2005.
TRANSLITERATION (as found in the songsheet of 1921)
Burekes oyf peysekh darf men hobn.
Burekes oyf peysekh s’iz a groyse zakh.
Far khreyn, far a rosl, far an oyrekh, far a shokhn,
darf men burekes a sakh. Darf men burekes a sakh.
Shtey uf mayn man un krikh fun bet aroys,
shushan-purim iz shoyn oykh avek.
Gey koyf kalkhoys [kalekh] tsu kalekhen dos hoyz
un oyfn tsuber klap aroyf a dek.
Sloyes mit shmaltz shoyn ongegreyt,
di hon [hun] hot shoyn geleygt an ey.
Di kitl iz oysgevashn reyn
un keyn burekes nokh alts nishto.
Burekes oyf peysekh darf men hobn.
Burekes oyf peysekh s’iz a groyse zakh.
Far khreyn, far a rosl, far an oyrekh, far a shokhn,
darf men burekes a sakh. Darf men burekes a sakh.
Shteyt uf kinder, davenen iz shoyn tsayt.
Tsayt tsu geyn in kheyder arayn.
Lernt di kashes, tsu peysekh iz nisht vayt.
vet ir krign khremzlekh mit vayn.
Di alte milbushim shoyn ibergeneyt
mit lates shpogl nay.
Di koyses oysgevashn reyn
un keyn burekes nokh alts nishto
Burekes oyf peysekh darf men hobn.
Burekes oyf peysekh s’iz a groyse zakh.
Far khreyn, far a rosl, far an oyrekh, far a shokhn,
darf men burekes a sakh. Darf men burekes a sakh.
TRANSLATION
We must have beets for Passover.
Beets for Passover – it’s a big deal.
For horse radish, for broth, for a guest, for a neighbor,
you need a lot of beets; you need a lot of beets.
Get up my husband and crawl out of bed,
The holiday of Shushan-Purim has already passed.
Go buy lime to whitewash the house
and over the tub hammer a blanket.
Jars with fat are all ready
the hen already laid an egg.
The kitl [white robe] has been washed clean
and still there are no beets.
We must have beets for Passover.
Beets for Passover – it’s a big deal.
For horse radish, for broth, for a guest, for a neighbor,
you need a lot of beets; you need a lot of beets.
Get up children, time to pray.
Time to go off to school.
Learn the four questions; Passover is not far off.
And you will be rewarded with khremzlekh [Passover pancakes] and wine.
The old clothes have been sewed up;
the patches are brand new.
The goblets have been washed and cleaned
and the beets are still not here.
We must have beets for Passover.
Beets for Passover – it’s a big deal.
For horse radish, for brine, for a guest, for a neighbor,
you need a lot of beets; you need a lot of beets.
Der freylekher kaptsn (The Happy Poor Man) is an upbeat song I recorded from Jacob Gorelik in 1985 in New York City. The song follows the alef-beys for 23 verses. Der freylekher kaptsn is also known as Der freylekher khosid and Hop-tshik-tshak, which is a dance or dance step.
Jacob Gorelik sings at the Sholem-Aleichem Center with
Dr. Joshua Fishman sitting next to him (Bronx, 1980s)
As he says in his spoken introduction, Jacob Gorelik sent this song to the Israeli folklore journal Yeda-Am and it was printed in 1967 (Vol. 12 no 31-32) with the music. Attached are scans of those pages which include the Yiddish verses, a Hebrew translation and a brief commentary (in Hebrew) by the editor on the song at the end which includes references to other versions of the song found in other song collections. When he sang this for me Gorelik was reading the lyrics from the journal.
Gorelik also pointed out the similarity in melody to Khanele lernt loshn-koydesh (words by A. Almi), a song that was later recorded by Chava Alberstein and the Klezmatics among others.
The verse that corresponds to the letter ע begins with the word “helft” – because, as Gorelik explained, in the Ukrainian Yiddish dialect the “h” sound at the beginning of the word is often silent.
A humorous parody of the song about kibbutz life was collected and published by Menashe Gefen in issue 3-4, 1972, of the Israeli periodical מאסף, Measaf. Two scans of that are attached as are two scans of the version collected by I. L. Cahan and included in his 1912 publication Yidishe folkslider mit melodyen.
Thanks this week for help with the blog go to Paula Teitelbaum, Psoy Korolenko and Facebook friends
Gorelik speaks:
Lekoved mayn tayern gast, Itzikn, vel ikh zingen a folklid, an alte, alte folklid – “Der freylekher kaptsn”. Un es geyt in gantsn loytn alef-beys. Du veyst kaptsonim zenen ale mol freylekhe. Gehert hob ikh dos mit etlekhe tsendlik yor tsurik fun mayn froys a shvoger: Hershl Landsman. In Amerike hot gebitn – in Amerike tut men ale mol baytn – gebitn dem nomen af London. Far zikh, far di kinder, zey zoln kenen vern doktoyrim.
Un er hot es gehert baym onfang fun tsvantsikstn yorhundert. Hershl iz shoyn nito; lomir im take dermonen. Landsman is shoyn nito. Zayn froy iz nito shoyn. Mayn eygene tayere froy iz shoyn nito.
Der freylekher kaptsn. Es geyt loytn alef-beys. Gedrukt iz dos in Yeda-Am. Flegt aroysgeyn in Yisrol a vikhtiker zhurnal, a folklor-zhurnal. Unter der redaktsye fun Yom-Tov Levinsky, 1967 iz der zhurnal aroys, der numer.
א Ikh bin mir a khosidl, a freylekhe briye. Bin ikh mir a khosidl, on a shum pniye. Bin ikh mir a khosidl, a khosidak. Tants ikh mir a freylekhn hop-tshik-tshak!
ב Borves gey ikh mit hoyle pyates. Fun oyvn biz arop mit gole lates; Bin ikh mir a lustiker a freylekher bosyak Tants ikh mir a freylekhn hop-tshik-tshak!
ג Gole lekher iz mayn kapote fun oybn viz arop mit shvartser blote; Tu ikh mir on fun eybn dem yarmak. Tants ikh mir a freylekhn hop-tshik-tshak!
ד Der dales iz bay mir afn pritsishn oyfn. Der kop tut vey fun dem arumloyfn; kh’loyf un loyf azoy vi a durak. Tants ikh mir a freylekhn hop-tshik-tshak!
ה Hering mit broyt iz bay mir a maykhl, abi ikh shtop zikh on dem baykh. un kartofles far a pitak. Tants ikh mir a freylekhn hop-tshik-tshak!
ו Ver s’geyt in mayn veg, der vet hobn gute teg; in a bisl bronfn gefin ikh nit keyn brak; Tants ikh mir a freylekhn hop-tshik-tshak!
ז Zingen, zing ikh af mayn gorgl un shpiln, shpil ikh af mayn orgl. Bin ikh mir a khosidl, a spivak, Tants ikh mir a freylekhn hop-tshik-tshak!
ח Khotsh ikh bin mir horbevate un dertsu nokh stulovate; A bisl bronfn nem ikh mir geshmak Tants ikh mir a freylekhn hop-tshik-tshak!
ט Toybenyu, mayn vayb zogt tsu mir: nito af shabes, vey tsu dir; leydik iz mayn keshene, nito keyn pitak, Tants ikh mir a freylekhn hop-tshik-tshak!
י Yontif iz bay mir di beste tsayt, tsu antloyfn fun der klipe – vayt; un makh ikh dort a koyse mit dem knak, Tants ikh mir a freylekhn hop-tshik-tshak!
כּ Koshere kinderlekh, a ful getselt, hungerike tsingelekh aroysgeshtelt. Esn viln zey gants geshmak, Tants ikh mir a freylekhn hop-tshik-tshak!
ל Loyfn, loyf ikh af di piates, vayl shikh zaynen gole lates. Ikh loyf un loyf vi a bosyak, Tants ikh mir a freylekhn hop-tshik-tshak!
מ Mirenyu, mayn tokhter, zi zogt tsu mir: ven met kumen di nekhome af mir? Gib mir a khosn mit a kurtsn pidzak, Tants ikh mir a freylekhn hop-tshik-tshak!
נ Nekhome, mayne, zog ikh tsu ir: Du vest nokh heysn mitn nomen – shnir. Dayn shviger vet zayn a groyser shlak, Tants ikh mir a freylekhn hop-tshik-tshak!
ס S’hoybt nor on tog tsu vern, heybn zikh on di kinderlekh iberklern; un kalt iz zey gants geshmak, Tants ikh mir a freylekhn hop-tshik-tshak!
ע Elft mir kinder zmires zingen, vet ir zayn bay mir voyle yingen; shenken vel ikh aykh a pitak, Tants ikh mir a freylekhn hop-tshik-tshak!
פּ Peysekh kumt, bin ikh mir freylekh, mayn vayb a malke un ikh a meylekh. Matsos hobn mir a fuln zak; Tants ikh mir a freylekhn hop-tshik-tshak!
צ Tsadikim, rebeyim, veysn aleyn, az s’iz nit gut tsu zayn gemeyn; tsores faran in a fuler zak, tants ikh mir a freylekhn hop-tshik-tshak!
ק Kinder mayne, hob ikh gezogt: haynt iz simkhes-toyre, nit gezorgt; A koyse veln mir makhn gants geshmak; Tants ikh mir a freylekhn hop-tshik-tshak!
ר Royzenyu, mayn tokhter, zogt tsu mir: kh’hob a man, iz er gerotn in dir: er git mir nit af shabes afile keyn pitak; Tants ikh mir a freylekhn hop-tshik-tshak!
ש Shoyn Purim iz do, a yontif bay mir, Ikh trog shalekh-mones fun tir tsu tir. Khap ikh a trunk bronfn gants geshmak, Tants ikh mir a freylekhn hop-tshik-tshak!
תּ Tomid freylekh, nit gezorgt, Nor layen, nor geborgt. un in keshene iz nito keyn pitak, Tants ikh mir a freylekhn hop-tshik-tshak!
In honor of my dear guest, Itzik, I will sing the folksong, an old, old folksong “The Happy Poor man”. It goes according to the alphabet. You know poor people are always happy. I heard this a few decades ago from my brother-in-law Hershl Landsman. In American he changed – In America one is always changing – In America he changed his name to London; for his sake, for his children, so that they can become doctors.
And he heard it at the beginning of the 20th century. Hershl is no longer here; his wife is no longer here. My dear wife is no longer here.
“The Happy Poor Man”. It goes according to the alphabet. It was published in Yeda-Am, that used to be published in Israel: a folklore journal, an important journal, edited by Yom-Tov Lewinsky. In 1967 this issue was published.
א
I am a khosid, a happy creature.
I am a khosid, with no bias.
I am a khosid, a khosidak [humorous form of khosid]
So I dance a joyous hop-tshik-tshak!
ב
I go around barefoot with bare soles.
Up and down I’m full of patches.
I’m happy-go-lucky, cheerful and barefoot
So I dance a joyous hop-tshik-tshak!
ג
My kaftan is full of holes
from top to bottom full of mud.
So I put on my overcoat
and I dance a joyous hop-tshik-tshak.
ד
I treat poverty as if it were nobility,
my head hurts from all my running around.
I run and run as an fool,
so I dance a joyous hip-tshik-tshak.
ה
Herring with bread is a real treat
as long as I can stuff up my tummy,
with potatoes for a penny.
So I dance a joyous hop-tshik-tshak!
ו
Whoever goes in my path
will enjoy good days.
In a little whiskey I find nothing to waste;
So I dance a joyous hop-tshik-tshak!
ז
I sing with my throat
and play on my organ.
So I am a khosid, a singer.
And I dance a joyous hop-tshik-tshak!
ח
Though I am a hunchback
and I slouch a little too, I take a nice swig of whiskey.
And I dance a joyous hop-tshik-tshak!
ט
Toybeynyu, my wife says to me:
We have nothing for sabbath, woe is me.
Empty is my pocket with no penny.
So I dance a joyous hop-tshik-tshak.
י
Holidays are the best time for me,
to escape far from my shrewish wife.
And I drink a shot with real snap.
And I dance a joyous hop-tshik-tshak!
כּ
Observant children – I have a tent full;
their hungry tongues sticking out.
They really want to eat a lot.
So I dance a joyous hop-tshik-tshak!
ל
I run on my soles
because my shoes are all patched up.
I run and run like a barefoot man,
So I dance a joyous hop-tshik-tshak!
מ
Mirenyu, my daughter, says to me:
when will I get some relief?
Give me a groom with a short jacket.
So I dance a joyous hop-tshik-tshak!
נ
“My solace”, I say to her:
“You will yet one day be called ‘daughter-in-law’.
Your mother-in-law will be big nuisance.”
So I dance a joyous hop-tshik-tshak!
ס
As soon as the day breaks,
my children start to consider their state:
and they are so very cold.
So I dance a joyous hop-tshik-tshak!
ע
If you help me children to sing zmires you will be good kids.
I will give as a tip, a coin.
And I dance a joyous hop-tshik-tshak!
פּ
When Passover comes I am happy:
my wife is a queen and I a king.
We have a full sack of matzoh
And I dance a joyous hop-tshik-tshak!
צ
Holy rabbis, Rebbes, know already
that it’s not good to be vulgar.
We have a sack full of troubles.
And I dance a joyous hop-tshik-tshak!
ק
My children, I said,
today is Simkhes-Torah, don’t worry.
We will all down a good drink,
And I dance a joyous hop-tshik-tshak!
ר
Rose, my daughter, says to me.
I have a husband just like you.
He doesn’t give me a penny for the Sabbath
And I dance a joyous hop-tshik-tshak!
ש
Purim is already here, a real holiday for me,
I carry shalekh-mones from door to door.
I take a quick swig of whiskey, really fine.
And I dance a joyous hop-tshik-tshak!
ת
Always joyous, never worried,
Always borrowing, always mooching,
And in my pocket not a penny.
And I dance a joyous hop-tshik-tshak!
This year’s Passover is now complete, so please save this song for next year’s festival!
Mentshn getraye:a matse-podriad lid is the second matse-baking song we have posted on Yiddish Song of the Week. The first was “Mir nemen veytslekh”, sung by Dora Libson. Mentshn getraye was recorded from Jacob Gorelik by Michael Alpert and me in New York City in 1984, and Alpert later recorded his own performance of the song on the Lori Cahan-Simon Ensemble’s CD Songs My Bubbe Should Have Taught Me: Volume One: Passover.
Pre-war matse baking [from the Yad-Vasham Photo Archives]
In this posting we present original field recording of that song. The tradition of Matse-podriad continues in religious Jewish circles today and one can see samples of it on the internet. The spirit has remained jovial, often musical, over the years. Here is a current example with the Mishkoltz Rebbe:
Jacob Gorelik introduces the song with these words: “…the second song I heard in my town. My mother and other mothers sang it. It was called the “Matse-podriad-lid”. In town there was a custom, that once a year when Passover came, money was collected especially for poor people who could not buy matse, could not buy wine. Help! No way to celebrate Passover. It [custom] was called moes-khitin. That was one thing.
The second thing was – the matse was the primary thing. So the whole town got together and there was complete unity – the orthodox, the “modern” ones, the Zionists, Bundists, socialists. They used to rent a house with an oven, and buy wood, buy flour and hire people to bake the matse. And this was called a community “matea bakery” by the entire Jewish community.
And as someone once asked – when you sing, or you do something good – do you do it for youself or for the other person? It was a combination. One had it mind that you were doing it for the poor. You were baking matse for them. But at the same time, at that time it was a joy in town becasue it was a boring life. It was also an opportunity for girls and boys to get together. And we used to sing and this is one of those songs that were sung. Who composed the song…This song is light verse. It’s not ‘pure’ poetry; but it’s humorously colored. According to what Mendel Elkin once told me the writer was Tunkel – or “The Tunkeler” [The dark one] his pseudonym.
The melody, I learned later when I was living in America, comes from a Ukrainian song “Nutshe Khloptse”. And now the song:
Mentshn getraye, farnumene un fraye,
Bay vemen es iz nor tsayt faran.
Git aher ayer pratse, un helft bakn matse,
dem noyt-baderftikn man.
Hentelekh ir kleyne, eydele un sheyne,
bikhelekh nor trogn ir kent.
Pruvt nor visn, eyn mol in Nisan
dem tam fun mazolyes af di hent.
Ir gvirishe meydlekh, helft kneytn teyglekh
mit ayere vaysinke hent.
Teygelekh geknotn vi Got hot gebotn,
Kosher un erlekh un fayn.
Spoken: A freylekhn Peysekh! Flegt men zogn alemen.
TRANSLATION
Dear people, those who are busy, and those who are free.
Whoever has some time to spare.
Donate your labor to help bake matse
for the man in need.
Little hands, delicate and beautiful,
who only could carry books.
Get to know at least once during the month of Nisan,
the taste of calluses on your hands.
You well-off girls, help knead the dough
with your white hands.
Flour all kneaded, as God has commanded,
Kosher, and honest and fine
Spoken: “Happy Passover!” Is what we wished everyone.
Though Gorelick was from Byelorussia, the song text is also found in the writings of Galician writer Soma Morgenstern, who quotes it in his book “The Third Pillar” (1955), page 59, translated from the German [see below]. I have yet to find this poem in Der Tunkeler’s writings.
Sadly, as we were preparing this blog entry the Yiddish writer Masha Rolnik (Mascha Rolnikaite) passed away at age 89 in St. Petersburg, on April 7th, 2016. Her Yiddish diary of her experiences during the Holocaust, written as a teenager is entitled Ikh muz dertseyln (I Must Tell). It is considered one of the most important day-by-day descriptions of the Vilna ghetto.
Masha Rolnik
We thank Michael Lukin, researcher and curator of Yiddish song at the Jewish Music Research Centre in Jerusalem for submitting the recording, which he made in St. Petersburg, Russia, November 27, 2013.
In this Yiddish Song of the Week entry we are including a 10 minute unedited recording in which she sings two Yiddish songs written while in a labor camp during the second world war. She then talks about her life during the war. We have translated her introductory spoken remarks and the two songs, as well as transliterations of them.
The two songs that she sings, Der Shtrasenhofer hymn and Sport can be found in Shmerke Kaczerginski’s collection Lider in di getos un lagern (Congress for Jewish Culture, NY, 1948) (pages 228 – 229 and pages 224 – 225). There the author of the songs is listed as “unknown” but from this recording we are made aware that Rolnik wrote the words and apparently borrowed the melody from other songs.
We are attaching scans of the songs in Yiddish from the Kaczerginski collection. Since Rolnik’s versions of the songs vary only slightly from the printed versions, and, in fact, she is singing them from Kaczerginski’s book, we have only provided the Yiddish versions as found in that collection. The music to the Hymn is also found in the Kaczerginski collection and we have included a scan of that as well.
In the Kaczerginski collection, both songs were sung to the collector by Sarah Kogan from Vilna, and her performance of the Hymn can be heard in the Ben Stonehill collection. Also in the Stonehill collection you can hear Kaczerginski himself singing the Strassenhofer Hymn.
There are many websites to find out more about Rolnik’s life, and one can begin with her Wikipedia page. There is a Yad Vashem page on her father, Hirsh Rolnik, who was separated from the family at the beginning of the war. The Yad Vashem website additionally has information on the Strassenhof camp located near Vienna, where almost all the inmates survived.
Masha Rolnik speaks: “Sunday, we worked half a day, so during the second half we were free. That Jews should be free – they could not accept that notion. So we had to march in the camp singing a song that they provided. The song is called ‘We were the masters of the world; now we are’ – you’ll pardon me – ‘the lice of the world.’ I could not accept that. Where I got the melody I don’t know: I am no composer. It was in my head.
SONG 1: DI SHTRASENHOFER HYMN
lyrics: Masha Rolnik, music: unknown
1
Mir zaynen di shtrasenhofer yidn,
Dos “naye eyrope” boyen mir.
Di arbet, vos mir hobn – iz farshidn.
Ober tsores hobn mir on a shir.
REFRAIN:
Akh, shtrasenhof, oy biz tsum haldz bistu mir!
Akh, shtrasenhof, vi vert men poter shoyn fun dir?
Akh, shtrasenhof, ven vet shoyn kumen di tsayt,
un mir veln vider zayn bafrayt?
2
Mitn esn iz do zeyer biter –
Di zup, zi iz epes modne blo,
un dertsu – iz zi azoy shiter
vayl kartofl far undz iz nokh nito.
REFRAIN
3
Di fabrikn-luft bakumt undz nit tsum gutn,
dos veysn mir ale gants genoy.
Es zol beser tsirkulirn undzere blutn,
shikt men zuntik undz afn barakn-boy.
REFRAIN
4
Nor derfun ken men oykh nokh nit shtarbn –
dos meynt men mit undz gornit shlekht;
Mir viln krign in di bakn royte farbn –
Do iz der lager-elterer “gerekht”.
REFRAIN
5
Mit der derloybenish fun eltern fun lager
vert yedn zuntik ovnt muzitsirt,
un loytn bafel fun eltern: oy a shlager,
vert yedn zuntik morgn eksertsirt.
REFRAIN
6
Es muz vern marshirt un gezungen!
Ir tort nit zayn shtayf, vi a bret!
Ir muzst hobn gezunte lungen,
oyb ir vet amol farlozn dem katset!…
1
We are the Shrassenhofer Jews,
We are building the “New Europe”
The work that we do is varied,
But sorrows we have without end.
REFRAIN
Akh, Strassenhof, I am up to my throat with you,
Akh, Strassenhof, how can I get rid of you?
Akh Strassenhof, when will the time return
And we will once more be free?
2
Concerning the food here, it’s very bitter –
The soup, its strangely blue.
In addition – it’s so thin
Because there are no potatos here for us.
REFRAIN
3
The factory air makes us sick.
We all know this too well.
In order for our blood to circulate better
We are sent on Sunday to build barracks.
REFRAIN
4
But yet from this one cannot die –
They have no evil designs on us.
We will get red colors in our cheeks.
The camp elder is right about that.
REFRAIN
5
With the permission of the elders in the camp
Every Sunday we make music.
Following the order of the elders: Oh, a hit song!
Should get exercised every Sunday morning.
REFRAIN
6
We must march and sing!
You cannot be stiff as a board!
You must have healthy lungs,
If you ever want to leave this camp.
REFRAIN
SONG 2: SPORT
words: Masha Rolnik music: unknown
In Strasenhofer lager
derfunden hot men dort
far groys un kleyn,
far yung un alt –
a naye mode – sport.
Ver s’hot dem apel farshlofn,
Ver in nore farzamt zikh hot –
krigt glaykh nokhn apel
dem nayem sport-kompot
REFRAIN:
Oy, Shtrasenhof, farvos zog, Shtrasenhof,
Ikh freg dikh, Shtrasenhof, du veyst gevis.
Der sport iz grod nit shlekht, dos bistu yo gerekht
nor farvos shmartsn nokhdem azoy di fis?
Tsu morgns in fabrik gekumen,
dershlept zikh got-tsu-dank.
Dan nemt a yede brumen:
“Oy, vi bin ikh haynt krank”.
Eyne ken zikh nit rirn,
di tsveyte ken nit geyn,
di drite muz men firn,
di ferte ken nit shteyn.
Refrain – Oy Strasenhof….
Tsu peysekh git men undz
a geshenk gor fayn un shnel:
dray a zeyger ofshteyn
un fir in der apel.
Un Lides shtime hert men
“Ver vil nokh shlofn dort?
Tsi den hot ir fargesn
az ir muzst haynt makhn sport?”
REFRAIN
Mit sport muzn mir oyfshteyn,
mit sport shlofn mir ayn,
sport ahin tui sport aher
Gevald! Ikh ken nit mer!
In Strassenhof camp
They discovered
For big and small,
For young and old –
A new fad – sport.
Whoever slept past the “Apel” [line-up]
Whoever in her corner came late –
The new sport-pudding.
REFRAIN:
Oy Strassenhof, why, tell me, Strassenhof
I ask you Strassenhof; you know for sure.
The sport is actually not bad, in this you are right.
But why afterwards do my legs hurt so much?
Next day I came to the factory
I barely made it, thank God.
Then everyone starts to complain:
“Oy how sick I am today”.
One cannot move.
The other cannot walk.
The third one must be helped,
The fourth cannot stand.
REFRAIN
For Passover they give us
A gift, real fine and fast;
Three o’oclock wake up
And by four at the Appel.
And Lide’s voice can be heard.
Who wants to sleep some more over there,
Did you forget
That you have to do sport today?!
REFRAIN
With sport we must wake up.
With sport we fall asleep.
Sport here, sport there,
Help! I can’t anymore.
The last day of Passover 1903 coincided with Easter that year, and the tragic Kishinev pogrom began on that date. Kishinev, aftermath of the pogrom (YIVO Archives)
Lifshe Schaechter-Widman (LSW) sang this version of a song about the pogrom which was adapted for other pogroms, or perhaps was itself already an adaptation of an earlier pogrom song. In this post we note two other pogroms with versions of the song.
A version of the same pogrom song is sung by the actress/singer Miriam Kressyn about Bialystok on the LP record Dos Goldene Land. Kressyn was from Bialystok, and the Bialystoker pogroms took place in 1905 – 1906. (Thanks to Lorin Sklamberg and the YIVO Sound Archives for providing this recording)
The third pogrom where this song was used was in Volodarka, Ukraine. This pogrom took place in July 1919 amidst the Russian Civil War. The lyrics (as collected by S. Kupershmid) appears in the Tsaytshrift far yidisher geshikhte, demografye un ekonomik literatur-forshung, shprakh-visnshaft un etnografye 2-3 (Minsk, 1928) page 803. It too contains the lines of walking through feathers as through snow in winter, and this emerged as one of the primary pogrom images, as we see in our Kishinev pogrom examples and others.
On the Workmen Circle’s LP “Amol iz geven a mayse”, Sidor Belarsky sings two verses of an abbreviated version of The Kishiniev Pogrom song. The song begins at this link – double click on “Amol iz geven a mayse (cont.)” and go to 12:30 minutes.
In the chapter “The Pogrom As Poem” in David G. Roskies’ work Against the Apocalypse: Responses to Catastrophe in Modern Jewish Culture (1984) the author examines how the same pogrom song was adapted for different pogroms. He remarks “even when the singer invoked historical facts, the relics of the violence were organized into public symbols and thematic formulas, so that the details were applicable anywhere and only the place-name would have to be changed.”
Transliteration/Translation of LSW’s version:
Lifshe Schaechter-Widman “Lid funem Keshenever Pogrom”, recorded by Leybl Kahn, Bronx, 1954
Akhron Shel Peysekh af der nakht
iz aroys a nayer “rozkaz.”
Az yidn zoln lign bahaltn.
Zey torn zikh nisht dreyen in gas.
Oy, ziser got in himl,
kuk shoyn arop af dr’erd.
Ze nor dem rash un getuml.
Vos hobn di yidn far a vert?
A hoyz fun dray gorn
hot men geleygt biz tsu dem grint.
Betgevant hot men gerisn,
di federn gelozt of dem vint.
In di federn iz men gegangen
azoy vi vinter in shney.
Vayber hot men geshlogn;
mener gerisn of tsvey.
Vayber hot men geshlogn;
Di mener tserisn of tsvey.
Ziser got in himl
kik shoyn arup af dr’erd
Vuz zenen di yidn azoy zindik
Vus zey hobn gur keyn vert?
The last day of Passover
a new regulation was issued.
That Jews should lie hidden;
they aren’t allowed in the street.
Oy sweet God in heaven,
Look already down on the earth.
See the tumult and chaos.
Are the Jews worth anything?
A house three stories high
was destroyed down to the ground.
Bedding was torn apart;
the feathers blew in the wind.
In the feathers they walked
as in winter in snow.
Women were beaten;
men torn in two.
Sweet God in heaven
Look already down to the Earth.
Have the Jews so sinned
that they are of no worth.
Rabbi Herschel Schacter
Illustration of song “Who Knows One” by painter Shalom of Safed (1887-1980). Reprinted in: A Feast of History by Chaim Raphael. London and Jerusalem: Weidenfeld and Nicholson, 1972.
Cover of 1921 Song Sheet for Golub’s Burikes fun Peysakh published in New York.
Abba Rubin
Yiddish Song of the Week 