Di shteytishe meydelekh [kh’bin geboyrn a dorfsmoyd] The City Girls (I Was Born a Country Girl)
Sung by Lifshe Schaechter-Widman. Recorded by Leybl Kahn, 1954 NYC
Jewish girl from village outside of Zagreb, courtesy of the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum
Di shteytishe meydalekh geyen shpatsirn Zey geyen geuremt mit sheyne kavelirn. In der puder aleyn Er makht zey di bekelekh sheyn.
The city girls go for a walk. They’re arm in arm with handsome suitors. And just the powder makes their cheeks pretty.
Ikh veyn in klug. Ikh ver nisht mid. Keyner hert mayn veynen nit. Of mir iz nebekh a noyt. Kh’bin geboyrn a dorfsmoyd.
I cry and lament. I don’t get tired. No one hears my weeping. I have, alas, a fault: I was born a country [village] girl.
Di shteytishe meydelekh trugn zikh net. Zey libn nisht keyn yidn; nor ales kadet. Nor af mir, iz nebekh aza noyt. Kh’bin geboyrn a dorfsmoyd.
The city girls are so elegant. They don’t love Jews, only cadets. But alas, I have a fault – I was born a country girl.
Ikh veyn in klug, Ikh ver nisht mid. Keyner hert mayn veynen nit. Oyf mir iz aza noyt. Ikh bin geboyrn a dorfsmoyd.
I cry and lament. I do not tire. No one hears my weeping. I have, alas, this fault – I was born a country girl.
COMMENTARY BY ITZIK GOTTESMAN
I could not find this song in any collection and it is not found in the play “Dos dorfs meydl” by Perlmutter and Wohl. It is probably from an old Yiddish musical play but whether the singer Lifshe Schaechter-Widman learned it growing up in Bukovina, or in NYC when she was living there from 1908 to 1914 is not clear (she went back to Europe in 1914, and did not return to live in the US until 1951).
די שטעטישע מיידלעך איך בין געבוירן אַ דאָרפֿמויד געזונגען פֿון ליפֿשע שעכטער־ווידמאַן
Dus beymele shteyt in vald / The tree stands in the woods A folklorized version of the Goldfaden song, “Elnt fun ale beymer vayt” sung by Lifshe Schaechter-Widman. Recorded by Leybl Kahn, New York City, 1954.
COMMENTARY BY ITZIK GOTTESMAN This is a folklorized version of the song “Elnt fun ale beymer vayt” from the Goldfaden operetta “Di kishifmakherin” also known as “Koldunye” (the witch), first performed in 1878. It is sung by the young girl Mirele in the second act, first scene. A scan of the original Yiddish is attached from a New York edition of the play.
The song presents an interesting case of folklorization, turning a theater song into a Yiddish orphan song, though with a hopeful ending which is atypical of Yiddish orphan songs. I have kept the false start and brief discussion afterwards with Leybl Kahn in which LSW says this song was learned in her hometown Zvinyetshke (now Ukraine).
Another folklorized version of this Goldfaden song was published in the second volume, Skuditski Folklor-lider, Moscow, 1936, p. 312, #52 (see screen shots attached below). There the song is extended with two new verses and keeps much more of the Goldfaden text than LSW’s.
Click here to listen to Frank Seiden singing a version of the original Goldfaden song, 1901, and click here to see the sheet music from the Library of Congress archive.
Dus beymele shteyt in vald [False start] Dus beymele shteyt in vald, dus beymeledus beymele elnt, aleyn. Azoy ikh nebekh yesoymele In velt drey ekh mekh arim aleyn. Azoy ikh nebekh yesoymele Drey zikh af der velt arim aleyn.
The tree stands in the woods, the tree, the tree all alone. So I, alas, poor orphan, Drift around this world alone
Dus beymele triknt ayn in di bleter faln up. Zey faln gants arup. Azoy faln mayne trern. tse der naser erd arup, oy, arup. Azoy faln mayne trern. Tse der naser erd arup.
The tree dries up and the leaves fall off. They fall off completely. So fall my tears to the wet ground.
Veyn nit in klug nit, yesoymele, yesoymele, elnt, aleyn. Es vet nokh blien dus beymele, Dayn glikele vet nokh kimen tsi geyn. Es vet nokh blien dus beymele, Dayn glik vet nokh kimen tsu geyn.
Don’t cry and lament, dear orphan, Orphan, alone and lonely. The tree will once more blossom; Your good fortune will return.
דאָס ביימעלע שטייט אין וואַלד, דאָס ביימעלע, עלנט, אַליין .אַזוי איך נעבעך יתומעלע אין וועלט דריי איך מיך אַרום אַליין .אַזוי איך נעבעל יתומעלע, דריי זיך אויף דער וועלט אַרום אַליין.
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
Shluf mayn kind in a gliklekhn shluf
Performance by Lifshe Schaechter-Widman (LSW)
Recorded by Leybl Kahn, Bronx, NY, 1954
Commentary by Itzik Gottesman
This song smells, tastes and sounds like an Avrom Goldfaden (1840 – 1908) song from one of his plays, but I cannot find the original text yet. The sentimentality, the lament of the Jew in the Diaspora – all are in the style of the “father of the modern Yiddish theater”. Goldfaden had a talent for composing a memorable lullaby, as in Rozhinkes mit mandlen and as we see here. LSW sings this powerfully with her slow, emotional style.
Chernovitz,Romania 1937: from left – Beyle Schaechter-Gottesman, cousin Lusye (Gottesman) Buxbaum, brother Mordkhe Schaechter, mother Lifshe Schaechter-Widman (Beyle’s mother), father Binyumin Schaechter, grandmother Taube Gottesman.
As usual, the transliteration reflects LSW’s Yiddish dialect more accurately than the words in Yiddish.
Shluf mayn kind in a gliklekhn shluf. Shulf, inter mayn lid. Di bist nokh tsi ying tsi erfiln dayn shtruf. Derfar vayl di bist a yid.
Sleep my child, sleep happily. Sleep under my song. You are still too young to complete (carry out) your punishment. Because you are a Jew.
Shluf zhe kindele, shluf di vest nokh derfiln dayn shtruf. Shluf zhe kindele, shluf di vest nokh derfiln dayn shtruf.
Sleep my little child sleep. You will yet complete your punishment. Sleep my little child, sleep. You will yet complete your punishment.
Di vest geyn af der velt dayn broyt fardinen. Di vest geyn un vest vern mid. Di vest farsheltn dem tug fin dayn geboyrn Derfar vayl di trugst dem numen yid.
You will travel the world to earn your bread. You will go and become tired. You will curse the day of your birth, Because you carry the name Jew.
Shluf zhe yingele, shluf di vest nokh derfiln dayn shtruf. Shluf zhe yingele, shluf di vest nokh derfiln dayn shtruf.
Sleep my little boy sleep. You will yet complete your punishment. Sleep my little boy, sleep. You will yet complete your punishment.
Oy libe mentshn ikh beyt aykh zeyer tsu zingen dus lid, rifts mekh nit mer. Vayl tsi zingen dus lid bin ikh shoyn mid. Vayl ikh bin oykh a yid.
Oh dear people I beg of you, if you want to sing this song, call me no longer. Because I have grown tired of singing this song. Because I too am a Jew.
Shluf zhe yingele shluf di vest nokh derfiln dayn shtruf. Shluf zhe yingele, shluf di vest nokh derfiln dayn shtruf.
Sleep my little boy sleep. You will yet complete your punishment. Sleep my little boy, sleep. You will yet complete your punishment.
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.
Yiddish Song of the Week 