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“Es hot geshneyet un geregnt” Performed by Esther Gold

Posted in Main Collection with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 25, 2018 by yiddishsong

Es hot geshneyet un geregnt (Dos borvese meydele)
It was Snowing and Raining (The Barefoot Girl)
text by Morris Rosenfeld, sung by Esther Gold
Recorded by Dr. Diane Gold in 1983 in Massachusetts

Commentary by Itzik Gottesman

This week’s recording  was sent to me by Joe (Yosl) Kurland, Yiddish singer, songwriter, teacher  based in Western Massachusetts. It was recorded by the singer’s granddaughter Diane Gold so that Kurland could sing it at the bar-mitsve of her three sons.

As one can tell from this moving performance, the song meant a lot to Esther Gold since she had learned it from her father in New York City at the turn of the 20th century. Esther Gold (1900 – 1984) was born in Bryansk, Russia (southwest of Moscow) and came to New York in 1906.

gold pic 1Esther Gold (center) with parents & brothers 

Kurland realized that she sang the song to the same melody as David Edelshtadt’s song In kamf (Mir zaynen gehast un getribn) and combined the two at the bar-mitsves.

The text is by the great “sweatshop poet” Morris Rosenfeld and can be found in Volume II of his Shriftn (Writings). We are attaching the poem from that 1912 publication where it is called Tsu a borvose meydl – To a Barefoot Girl.

The original poem has twelve verses, Esther Gold sings nine. I have transcribed the words as Gold sings them which are incredibly accurate compared to the original. On occasion I have put in brackets the original word or phrase as found in Rosenfeld’s poem if different. The singer forgets one line in verse eight and I have put the original text in its place.

Significantly, the order of the last three verses differs from Rosenfeld’s. She ends the poem with the verse that suggests the barefoot girl could become a prostitute. A very powerful ending indeed. But the poet placed that verse third from the end, and concludes with Gold’s verse seven in which he worries about his own child.

Esther husband babyEsther Gold with her husband Isador (“Izzie”) and son H. Carl (“Chaim”) Gold (Carl is Diane Gold’s father).

Diane Gold writes about her grandmother, Esther Gold and about the song:

Our Grandma Esther was born in Bryansk (Russia), the daughter of Dina and Elhanan (Harris) Scheinin, and young sister to Eddie (Aaron) and Joe. I believe there was another sibling who died in childhood. Her grandmother came from Starodub and her grandfather came from Kriemenchuck (Kremenchuk, Ukraine). The birthdate she was given when they arrived at Ellis Island in 1906 was January 1, 1900. She died on December 28, 1984.

Harris, who was a fine tailor in Russia, came by ship to NYC in 1906, a little earlier in the year than Dina (a midwife) and the children. My father Carl, who grew up in the same household as his grandfather, remembers Harris as a gentle man with high principals who insisted that Carl never put his hands behind his back, as it was important not to be hiding things from people. Harris insisted on looking for fine tailoring work and according to the family was injured demonstrating against sweated labor and even against union leaders who were in league with the bosses. Not surprisingly he had trouble finding work, and this made for tensions and sadness in the family. He banned Esther from working in garment factories.

Esther learned the Borvese meydl song as a girl by his side at home, and I imagine him singing to her as he sewed and pressed clothing. The words of this song were real to him, I am certain. He worried about the fate of his children, and children who were even worse off than his immediate family. I am not surprised, given his politics and background that the version of the song he shared with Esther was put to the tune of In Kamf. 

The siblings worked as children and teenagers.  Dina berated Joe for selling newspapers and chewing gum, but took the money. As a teenager Esther, who must have been a gay flapper with a love of show tunes, got a job splicing film at Universal Studios in New York, where she met our grandfather Isador Gold, who was a photographer in Europe in WWI and did some of the first silent film newsreels. Living under the magnifying glass of the demanding and bewildered older generation, that marriage sadly fell apart and my dad grew up without a father, with his mom in his grandparents’ household. For a while Esther kept the books (and I think the accounts) for our great-uncle Joe, who eventually flourished financially in the New York cement business. Then, from when I was little, I remember Esther was a “salesgirl” in the girl’s department at B. Altman’s, living alone after her parents died in her rent controlled apartment at 110 Post Avenue. She only moved to be with us in Newington, Connecticut in the last years of her life, with no savings or pension after years of work, after she became blind. She was a petit determined intelligent loving grandma harboring memories damping her capacity for joy, which bubbled up when she talked about her girlfriends, when she dressed us in the finest clothes from Altman’s, when she kvelled at our accomplishments or when she sang.

Thanks to Joe (Yosl) Kurland, and Dr. Diane Gold and family.

TRANSLITERATION

1) Es hot dort geshneyt un geregnt
un geyendik shnel durkhn gas.
A meydele hob ikh bagegnt
halb naket un borves un nas.

2) Zi hot mit di nakete fislekh
gepatsht dem fargosenem bruk.
Un epes azoy vi fardrislekh
geshaynt hot ir kindisher kuk.

3) Kleyn meydele zog mir vu geystu?
Durkh regn, durkh shney un durkh kelt?
Zog mir mayn kind tsi farshteystu
vi iberik du bist oyf der velt?

4) Di velt velkhe lozt dir do zukhn
a lebn durkh elnt un leyd.
Un vil dayne fis nit bashukhn
nit haltn dayn guf in ayn [a] kleyd.

5) Zog, zaynen dir fremd di gefiln?
Tsi falt gor nit ayn der gedank,
ven du zolst zikh itstert farkiln
dan falstu avek un bist krank.

6) Ver vet dir damols kurirn?
Ver vet far dir epes ton?
Di velt velkhe lozt dir farfrirn,
Der Got velkher kukt [dir] nit on?

7) Derfar muz ikh veynen un klogn.
Es ken eykh zayn mit mayn kind
ven mir (mikh) zoln tsores dershlogn,
un ir zol farvarfn der vint.

8) Derfar muz ikh veynen un klogn.
Derfar heyb ikh uf a geshrey.
Derfar (nor, yo, volt ikh dikh kishn)
Tsu helfn tsu shtiln mayn (dayn) vey.

9) Dayn borveskeyt, kind, dayne trern
dayn geyn un nit visn a vu.
veys ikh, vos es ken vern
fun meydlekh, azelkhe vi du.

TRANSLATION

1) It was snowing and raining,
and while walking down the street,
I encountered a girl
half naked, barefoot and wet.

2) With her bare feet
she slapped the pavings stones.
And, in what looked like regret,
her childlike appearance shone.

3) Little girl, tell me where you’re going
in this rain, through the snow and cold
Tell me my child, do you understand
how superfluous you are in this world?

4) The world that lets you search here
for a lonely suffering life.
And does not want to shoe your feet
and not clothe your body in a dress.

5) Tell me, do you have these feelings
or does it not occur to you,
that if you were to catch cold here,
you’d be struck down and be sick.

6) Who would then heal you?
Who would do something for you?
The world that lets you freeze?
The God who does not even look at you?

7) Therefore I must cry and lament:
it could also happen to my child;
when sorrows would depress me,
and the wind would blow her far away.

8) Therefore I must weep and lament;
Therefore I raise up a cry.
Therefore, yes,  [I would kiss you ]
to help you quiet my [your] pain.

9) You being barefoot, child, your tears,
your wandering not knowing where;
I know what could become
of girls such as you.

Gold1

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Below is Tsu a borvose meydl – To a Barefoot Girl, from Shriftn (Writings), Vol. II, pp. 143-145 by Morris Rosenfeld (1912, New York):

mrosenfeld1mrosenfeld2.jpeg<img class="alignnone size-full wp-image-4273" src="https://yiddishsong.files.wordpress.com/2018/10/mrosenfeld3-e1540485244566.jpeg&quot; alt="mrosenfeld3" width="564" height="186" /

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“Shtiler, shtiler ovntvint” Performed by Yudeska (Yehudis) Eisenman

Posted in Main Collection with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 17, 2017 by yiddishsong

Commentary by Itzik Gottesman

Shtiler, shtiler ovntvint (Silent, silent evening wind) is the third song on the blog sung by Yehudis/ Yudeska Eisenman from a 1993 field recording made by Beyle Schaechter-Gottesman in the Bronx.

Best-Sights-Tour2
The Fields of Bessarabia

Another recording of the song Shtiler, shtiler ovntvint is found in The Stonehill Jewish Song Archive – a different blog of  the Center for Traditional Music and Dance, directed by Dr. Miriam Isaacs. The singer in the Stonehill collection, Menachem Brayer  says “This is a Ukrainian song in honor of the fighters for freedom.  The words are by me, the melody – unknown.” The link to that slow moving performance of a shortened version of the song is here.

Though Brayer seems to be claiming that he wrote the words to the song, it appears that it is a poem by the Yiddish writer Jacob (Yakov) Fichman (1881 – 1958) from Bălţi, Bessarabia (a town immortalized in the song “Mayn shtetele Belz”). I have yet to find the poem itself but Fichman’s authorship is cited in a work by Shmuel Shapiro  אשר לאורם הלכתי 1965, p. 274.

Brayer sings the song in the context of the Holocaust; Eisenman does not.

1) Shtiler, shtiler ovntvint,
kumst fun vaytn land atsind.
Kumst fun stepes on an ek,
kumst fun yamen on a breg,
vu di grozn hoyden zikh,
vu di khvalyes soyden zikh.

2) Kiler, shtiler ovntvint
brengst derkvikn undz atsind;
reykhes libe funem feld,
bsures gute tsu der velt.
Un du roymst undz ale ayn
S’vet fun itst shoyn beser zayn.

3) Voyl iz dem vos vakht vi du,
brengst dem elntn zayn ru.
Treyst dem shvakhn un farvigst
biz der mitog kert tsurik.
Un du roymst undz ale ayn –
S’vet fun itst shoyn beser zayn.

Unidentified voice: Alevay!

1) Silent, silent evening wind
you are now coming from afar.
You come from the endless steppes.
You come from the seas which have no end.
Where the grasses sway back and forth;
where the waves whisper to each other.

2) Cool, quiet evening wind,
you refresh us now:
nice scents from the field,
good news to the world.
And you whisper to everyone:
it will be better from now on.

3)  Happy is he who keeps watch as you,
bringing the lonely their peace.
You comfort the weak and lull to sleep,
till the noon hour returns.
And you whisper to everyone –
It will be better from now on.

Spoken by unidentified person:  “Alevay!”  [If only it comes true!]
shtiler1sthiler2

“Du vint du shtifer” Performed by Leo Summergrad

Posted in Main Collection with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , on March 18, 2016 by yiddishsong

Commentary by Itzik Gottesman

The song Du vint du shtifer, (You wind, you prankster) was learned by Leo Summergrad in the Bronx Mitl Shule of the IWO  (International Worker’s Order) in either 1938, 1939, or 1940.  The recording presented here was made in the 1950’s.

leo summergrad

Leo Summergrad, picture by the
Yiddish Book Center’s Wexler Oral History Project

Summergrad’s music teachers would have been either Vladimir Heifetz  (1893 – 1970) or Irving R. Korenman, both well-known composers associated with the Jewish left.

More on these composers can be found in the papers of Vladimir Heifetz at YIVO. The author and composer of “Du vint du shtifer” will probably also be found in Heifetz’s papers.

Du vint, du shtifer

A lid a freylekhs zing undz oys
du vint, du shtifer,
du vint du shtifer
du vint du shtifer.

Host oysgenishtert hoykhe berg
in yamen tife,
un umetum hostu a lid gehert.

Zing undz vint fun di berg shver tsu greykhn
un bahaltene soydes fun yam.
fun foyglen in di heykhn
fun bloyen rum dem bleykhn
fun mutikayt vos veyst keyn tsam.

Ver gevoynt s’iz in kamf zikh tsu shteln
Zol mit undz itser zingen on shrek.
Biz freylekh vestu kveln,
un vilstu vestu poylen
un zukhstu nor, gefinst dayn veg.

A lid a freylekhs zing undz oys
du vint, du shtifer,
du vint du shtifer
du vint du shtifer.

Host oysgenishtert hoykhe berg
in yamen tife,
un umetum hostu a lid gehert.

Zing a lid vos in dem zol klingen
ale lider fun friling geshpreyt.
Az lipn zoln zingen,
dos harts fun glik zol shpringen,
zikh hoybn zoln fis far freyd.

Ver gevoynt s’iz in kamf zikh tsu shteln
zol mit undz itser zingen on shrek.
Biz freylekh vestu kveln,
un vilstu vestu poylen
un zukhstu nor, gefinst dayn veg.

TRANSLATION (by Leo Summergrad)

You Wind You Prankster

Sing us a happy song,
You wind you prankster.
You have explored high mountains and deep seas,
And everywhere you heard a song.

Sing us, wind, of the peaks hard to scale,
Of hidden secrets of the sea,
Of birds on high, of blueness in the heavens,
Of a spirit that has no bounds.

Refrain:

Whoever is accustomed to go into battle,
Should sing with us, without fear.
If you are happy, you will be joyful,
And if you desire, you’ll succeed.
And if you seek, you will find your way.

Sing us a happy song,
You wind, you prankster.
You have explored high mountains and deep seas,
And everywhere you heard a song.

Sing a song in which should ring out
All the songs of Spring, combined.
That lips should sing,
And the heart jump with happiness,
And feet shall rise with joy.

Refrain

duvint1.JPGduvint2duvint3duvint4

“Tunkl brent a fayer” Performed by Jacob Gorelik

Posted in Main Collection with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , on January 5, 2011 by yiddishsong

Commentary by Itzik Gottesman

For more on Jacob (Yankev) Gorelik see the previous post on “A baysphil.” He sang Tunkl brent a fayer (“A Fire Burns Dimly”) in his apartment in the “Chelsea hayzer” (Penn south), on 7th avenue and 25th street in Manhattan, circa 1985.  This song about an “agune,” a women who was abandoned by their husband, is part of a genre of agune-songs in Yiddish. Chaim Grade’s Yiddish novel The Agunah (translated in English with that title) depicts the complexity of dealing with the agune, and the rabbinic disagreements over when to declare the woman free to remarry.

I believe one hears the influence of the great singer Sidor Belarsky in Gorelik’s singing, even when he sings his mother’s songs from his hometown. I have included the spoken introduction below because it was typical of how Gorelik would frame a song he was about to perform for a larger audience. It’s interesting how he implies that by attending the Yiddish theater, the immigrant was thereby just a short hop from meeting new women and abandoning the wife in the old country.

The scanned music and words are from the songbook Songs of Generations compiled by Chana and Yosl Mlotek. Gorelik had, apparently, sent Tunkl brent a fayer to the Mloteks  who ran a column “Readers remember” in the Yiddish Forward newspaper. Chana Mlotek continued to write the column  after Yosl Mlotek’s death in 2000.

A song of an “agune,” an abandoned woman, that I heard from my mother, may she rest in peace.

There was a time, the emigration, the great emigration at the beginning of the 20th century and earlier, and many wandered out to America. Towns were emptied out. Many women remained with children. They didn’t hear anything from their husbands. Some were faithful and sent over their most recent earnings to their wives; shared it with their wives and children.

Others forgot. In the “Golden Land” they forgot about their old home. They wanted a little joy and happiness and started to go to the theater; met other women and forgot that they had “an old home,” a wife and child. And such women were called “agune” – “she was connected” as long as the husband did not free her. And songs were composed on this on the spot.

I had heard such a song among the folk, and another one I heard from my mother, may she rest in peace. She had a golden voice when she sang. In general my mother sang minor-keyed (sad) songs.

“A sikele, a kleyne” Performed by Beyle Schaechter-Gottesman

Posted in Main Collection with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on October 5, 2010 by yiddishsong

Notes by Itzik Gottesman

A sikele, a kleyne is based on a popular poem by Avrom Reisen called „In suke.‟ I know of at least three recordings: Louis Danto’s Masters of the Jewish Art Song; Yiddish Classics (a.k.a. Heymishe Yidishe Klangen volume one, 1991); and the version on the recent CD Tsuker Zis by Lorin Sklamberg and Frank London. The Danto version is with a different melody by Joel Engel. The other two are similar to the one sung by Beyle Schaechter-Gottesman (BSG) which she learned in her hometown of Chernovitz, Romania.

Only Danto‘s version uses Reisin‘s original poem. The words differ in the other versions, verses were added, and the song was widely folklorized. In Shmuel Lehman‘s Ganovim lider (Thieve‘s Songs) he includes an underworld song sung to the same melody.

In 2001 or 2002 I interviewed one of the producers of the Yiddish Classics CD and he mentioned that a rabbi called and complained about their Sukele version because it left out the final verse that BSG includes.

BSG (my mother) was born in Vienna, raised in Chernovitz and came to the US in 1951. She is a poet, songwriter and singer, awarded a National Heritage Fellowship by the National Endowment for the Arts in 2005 for her Yiddish singing, songs and poetry.

Photograph of Beyle Schaechter-Gottesman by Joan Roth

She is the daughter of the singer Lifshe Schaechter-Widman (LSW) whose performances have been posted on this blog a number of times. Whereas LSW‘s singing reflects a 19th century small shtetl style, her daughter captures the urban Yiddish singing style of the interwar period. You can hear more of her singing traditional repertoire on the CD Bay mayn mames shtibele.

Final note: the pitch sounds a little high on this recording done in our Bronx home in the 1980s.

A sikele a kleyne,
mit breytelekh gemeyne
hob ikh mir mit tsures tsunoyfgeklopt.
Tsigedekt deym dakh,
mit a bisele skhakh.
un ikh zits mir in sikele un trakht.

A little sukkah
with simple boards,
I barely put together.
I covered the roof
with a little skhakh, 
and I sit in the little sukkah and think.

Der vint der kalter,
bluzt derekh di shpalter
in lesht mir di lekhtelekh shir oys.
Herts nor a khidesh,
kom makh ikh nor kidish.
Der vint lesht di lekhtelekh oys.

The cold wind
blows throught the cracks
and almost blows the candles out.
Listen to this wonder –
only when I finish saying the kiddush, 
then the candles blow out. 

Mit a groys geveyn,
mit a biter geshrey,
kimt dekh mayn vabele aran.
Her nor man man,
Der vint varft dus sikele bold an,
Oy, vus vet dernukh dem zan?

With a great cry,
with a bitter yell,
my wife comes inside.
„Listen my husband,
The wind will soon blow the sukkah down,
Oh, what will happen then?‟

Gey zay nisht keyn nar,
un hob nisht keyn tsar,
un loz dir der vint nisht ongeyn.
vifl vintn s‘veln brimen,
vifl doyres s‘veln kimen,
dos sikele vet eybik shteyn.

„Don‘t be a fool,
and don‘t have any grief,
and don‘t worry about the wind.
No matter how many winds will roar
No matter how many generations will come,
the sukkah will always remain standing.