Ikh bin a blekher / I am a Roofer (Tinsmith) A children’s song sung by Lifshe Schaechter-Widman, recorded by Leybl Kahn NY 1954
ikh bin a blekher I am a roofer (tinsmith) Ekh krikh af ale dekher I crawl on all the roofs. A kestl blekh arifgetrugn, I carried up a box of tin. ungeklopt in ungeshlugn. Banged and hammered in. Ekh bin oysgefurn a velt. I’ve traveled around the world. ikh hob nisht keyn groshn gelt. I don’t have one penny.
Spoken (by her son Mordkhe Schaechter): S’iz a kinderlidl. It’s a children’s song.
In the Yiddish dictionaries “blekher” is translated as “tinsmith”, but the singer Lifshe Schaechter-Widman (LSW) uses the word, and not just in this song, to also mean “roofer”, fixing roofs made of tin. Children’s songs that mock the poverty of the tradesman abound in Yiddish and LSW also sang a song about a cobbler with no shoes for himself (“Ikh bin a shisterl”).
Ikh bin oysgefurn di gantse velt / I Traveled the Whole World Over A love song from the 19th century sung by Lifshe Schaechter-Widman [LSW] Recorded by Leybl Kahn, NYC 1954
TRANSLITERATION
LSW speaks: Fin mayn mamen a folkslid; dus iz shoyn… Ekh hob ekh es gehert mit 60 yur.
Ikh bin oysgefurn a gantse velt. Ikh ho’ gemeynt ikh vel eraykhn [erreichen] dus greste glik. Tse dir, tse dir mayn tayer zis leybm. Tse dir hot mekh getsoygn tsurik. Tse dir, tse dir mayn tayer zis leybm. Tse dir hot mekh getsoygn tsurik.
Vi ‘zoy ken ikh dikh libn, vi ‘zoy ken ikh dikh ern. Vi ‘zoy ken ikh dikh gants farshteyn? Az di heyse libe, vus hot getin brenen, Iz geloshn gevorn mit mayn geveyn. Az di heyse libe vus hot getin brenen, Iz geloshn gevorn mit mayn geveyn.
[alternate second verse as remembered by her daughter Beyle Schaechter Gottesman]]
Vi ken ikh dikh libn, vi ken ikh dikh shetshn Vi ken ikh dekh den ern? Az di heyse libe vus hot getin brenen, Is ousgeloshn mit mayne trern]
TRANSLATION
LSW speaks: A folksong from my mother. I heard it 60 years ago.
I traveled the whole world over, I thought I would attain the happiest joy. To you, to you, my dear, sweet love [literally: life] To you, I was drawn to return. To you, to you, my dear, sweet love To you, I was drawn to return.
How can I love you? How can I honor you, How can I understand you completely, when the passionate love that burned was extinguished with my tears.
[alternate 2nd verse]
How can I love you, how can I appreciate you, How can I honor you? when the passionate love that burned was extinguished with my tears.
Lifshe Schaechter-Widman with her grandchildren, Itzik and Hyam Gottesman
Commentary by Itzik Gottesman
I have not found any variants of this beautiful lovesong that LSW remembers from the 1890s. She says that her mother Tobe knew about 30 songs but once Tobe’s husband died young, she was not in the mood to sing. But when Lifshe heard her singing a tune to herself, she asked her to sing it to her.
Zay zhe mir gezint, zay zhe mir gezint / Fare thee well, fare thee well. A version of “Di goldene pave”, sung by Lifshe Schaecter-Widman (LSW), recorded by Leybl Kahn, NYC 1954
Commentary by Itzik Gottesman
This is LSW’s version of the old and popular song more commonly called “Di gildene/goldene pave”, the “Golden Peacock”. It seems that the song gave rise to the golden peacock as a symbol referring to Yiddish folksong and Yiddish artistic creativity in general.
Illustration by Shirley Knoring
The peacock, needless to say, has been a cross-cultural symbol for millenia. On her blog “Jewish Folk Songs” Batya Fonda discusses the various interpretations of the golden peacock and has transcribed and translated into English a couple of versions of the Yiddish folksong.
In YIVO’s Ruth Rubin Archive collection, Mary Michaels sings a version, recorded in 1956. Click here to listen.
More recently, Ruth Levin, accompanied by Alexei Belousov on guitar sings it on her recording Atlandish (2019):
LSW’s version makes no mention of the gildene pave, but a bird does remain as the central character along with the unhappy daughter/daughter-in-law. The line about having one hand appears in no other versions, and seems to me to be improvised at the moment of performance. The verses about “shver un shviger’s kest” and “a shlekhtn man” appear in all versions.
Interestingly, Moshe Beregovski pointed out the similarity of the melody of the song’s first line to a Ukrainian song (Old Jewish Folk Music, Slobin, p. 514) But LSW starts off the song with a different melody than other versions.
The song is included in many collections: to name a few with musical notation: Yidishe folks-lider, Beregovski and Fefer, 276-77; Die Schonsten Lieder Der OstJuden, Kaufmann, 80-81; Thesaurus of Hebrew Oriental Melodies, vol. 9, Idelsohn, #33, page 12; Jewish Folksongs from the Baltics, Karnes, p. 20-21; Mir trogn a gezang, Mlotek, 106-107.Yiddish Folksongs from the Ruth Rubin Archive, Mlotek and Slobin, p. 45-46.; just text – Yidishe folkslider in rusland, Ginzburg and Marek, #264-265, p. 215 – 217
—————————————————
Zay zhe mir gezint Sung by Lifshe Schaechter-Widman
Zay zhe mir gezint, zay zhe mir gezint mayn tayere mame, Ekh fur fin dir avek Say es vet mir git zayn, say es vet mir shlekht zayn Kimen vel ekh mer nisht tsirik. Say es vet mir git zayn, say es vet mir shlekht zayn Kimen vel ekh mer nisht tsirik.
Farewell, farewell, my dear mother. I am going away. Whether it will be good, whether it will be bad I will not be coming back.
Azoy vi s’iz biter mayn mame, miter A feygele oyf deym yam. A feygele oyf deym yam. Azoy i’ dekh biter, mayn mame, miter, az me hot a shlekhtn man.
Just as it is bitter mother dear, for a bird over the sea, so it is bitter mother dear to have a cruel husband.
Azoy vi s’iz biter, mayn tayere miter, a feygele in a fremd land. a feygele in a fremd land. Azoy iz biter mayn mame, miter az m’ot nor eyn hant. Azoy iz biter mayn mame, miter az men hot nor eyn hant.
Just as it’s bitter dear mother for a bird in a strange land, so it is bitter mother dear, when you have just one hand.
Azoy vi s’iz biter mayn tayere miter a feygele un a neyst. a feygele un a neyst. Azoy iz biter mayn mame, miter shver un shvigers kest. Azoy iz biter mayn mame, miter shver un shvigers kest.
Just as it’s bitter my dear mother a bird without a nest, so it is bitter my dear mother to live with my in-laws.
Zay mir gezint mayn tayere mame, ikh fur fun dir avek. Say es vet mir git zayn, say es vet mir shlekht zayn. ikh vel nit kimen tsirik. Say es vet mir git zayn, say es vet mir shlekht zayn. Ikh kim nit mer tsurik.
Farewell, farewell my dear mother, I am going away. Whether it will go well for me, or go poorly, I will not be coming back.
Reb Tsudek Sung by Itzik Gottesman, recorded Nov 2018, Austin TX
Commentary by Itzik Gottesman
I was asked to post the song “Reb Tsudek” as sung by the Yiddish poet Martin Birnbaum. He sang it to Michael Alpert and me in 1984-85 in NYC. But, alas, I cannot find the original recording so I have recorded it myself.
Birnbaum was born in 1905 in Horodenke when it was Galicia in the Austro-Hungarian empire. Now it is in the Ukraine – Horodenka. According to a NY Times obituary he came to the US in 1923 and died in 1986. In the YIVO Institute’s Ruth Rubin Legacy Archive, Birnbaum sings four songs but not this one. Those recordings were done in 1964.
I believe there is more Yiddish folklore to be discovered about this shlimazel (bad luck) character Reb Tsudek. When I asked the Yiddish poet Yermye Hescheles about him he affirmed that there was such a comic figure in Galicia, where both he and Birnbaum were from.
The song mocks the Hasidic lifestyle – absurd devotion to the rebbe, irresponsibility, staying poor. The word “hiltay” – defined by the dictionaries as “libertine” “skirt-chaser” “scoundrel” – is really a cue that this is a 19th century maskilic, anti-Hasidic, song. The word is often used in such songs. The humor also hinges on the double meaning of tsimbl both as a musical instrument (a hammered dulcimer) and as a verb – “to thrash or scold someone”.
A tsimblist, about to be thrashed by his wife.
(courtesy Josh Horowitz)
In the song two towns are mentioned: Nay Zavalek remains a mystery but Grudek, west of Lviv, is Grodek in Polish and Horodok in Ukrainian.
Here is a clip of Michael Alpert singing the song, with Pete Rushefsky on tsimbl, Jake Shulman-Ment on violin and Ethel Raim singing at the Smithsonian Folkife Festival in Washington D.C., 2013:
TRANSLITERATION
Fort a yid keyn Nay-zavalek,
direkt bizn in Grudek.
Fort a yid tsu zayn rebn – Reb Tsudek.
Tsudek iz a yid, a lamden.
Er hot a boykh a tsentn,
Un s’iz bakant, az er ken shpiln
of ale instrumentn.
Shpilt er zikh derbay (2x)
Fort a yid keyn Nay-zavalek
direkt bizn in Grudek.
Oy vey z’mir tatenyu!
Fort a yid keyn Nay-Zavalek
direkt bizn in Grudek.
Oy vey z’mir tatenyu!
Un Reb Tsudek, er zol lebn,
hot gehat a gutn shabes.
Tsudek hot gekhapt shirayem,
mit beyde labes.
Aheymgebrakht hot er zayn vaybl
a zhmenye meyern-tsimes.
Un dertsu, oy vey iz mir,
a tsimbl un strines.
“Hiltay vus iz dus!” (2x)
Oy hot zi getsimblt Tsudek
fun Zavalek bizn in Grudek.
Oy vey z’mir tatenyu!
Oy hot zi getsimblt Tsudek
fun Zavalek bizn in Grudek.
Oy vey z’mir tatenyu!
TRANSLATION
A man travels to Nay-Zavalek,
directly until Grudek.
The man is traveling to his rabbi,
Mister Tsudek.
Tsudek is a learned man,
and has a belly that weighs ten tons.
And everyone knows that he can play
on all the instruments.
So he plays as he travels –
A man travels to Nay-Zavalek
directly until Grudek,
Oh my, dear God!
A man travels to Nay-Zavalek
directly until Grudek,
Oh my, dear God!
And Reb Tsudek, may he be well,
had a good Sabbath.
Tsudek caught the Rebbe’s holy leftovers
with both paws [large, rough hands].
For his wife he brought home
a handful of carrot – tsimmes,
and in addition – oh no! –
a tsimbl with no strings.
Scoundrel! what is this? (2x)
Boy did she thrash Tsudek
from Zavalek until Grudek
Oh my, dear God.
Boy did she thrash Tsudek
from Zavalek unti Grudek
Oh my, dear God
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.
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.
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.
A tsimblist, about to be thrashed by his wife.
Merke (Mary) Levine
Yiddish Song of the Week 