Please check back after Shabes for the Yiddish recording of the poem.
*Otwock was a popular Polish resort and spa not far from Warsaw. Moldowsky, diagnosed with a spot on her lung, spent several months recuperating there.
12: 13 So Moses cried out to יהוה, saying, “O God, pray heal her!”
י”ב: 13 און משה האָט געשריִען צו גאָט, אַזױ צו זאָגן: גאָט, איך בעט דיך, הײל זי, איך בעט דיך.
For a biography of Kadya Molodowsky in both English and Yiddish,see Week 3.
They arrive here smiling,
Like good friends arm in arm with death,
From the tempestuous depot
In fashionable clothes
And in Parisian hats.
This is a spa.
The young come, striding
Carefree into the green, bearded city,
Disappear there, and are lost.
And a blossoming face
Pales slowly, too,
And a girl’s round knee grows sharp.
Like poor folk after a great, noisy fair,
People drag themselves around here, back and forth,
And hot fingers sometimes
Grasp a brown tree trunk,
As if a young heart were pleading
With a tree in the woods:
Save me!
And an entire city lies
Unhallowed before death,
With open paths
And trains—leeches sucking at its side,
And no one can escape from there.
And I, too, came here, bathed,
In my white underclothes,
A sacrifice to the forests,
From cities and wandering.
But my veins are limber
And my blood is fresh.
And maybe I am the only one who will
Escape from this city hallowed before death.
otvotsk
IV
m’kumt aher nokh shmeykhlendik,
oy gute fraynt georemt mitn toyt,
fun shturmishn vakzal aroys,
un kleyder modishe
un in parizher hit.
s’iz a kurort.
yunge kumen, shpinen hfkrdik arayn,
in bordiker in griner shtot,
un vern dort farshvundn, un farfaln.
un s’bleykht pamelekh oys
a bliendik gezikht,
un shpitsik vert a meydlsh kaylekhdike kni.
vi yordem nokh a groysn reshikn yarid,
shlept men zikh arum do hin un tsurik.
un heyse fingerlekh faln tsu a mol
tsum broynem shtim fun boym,
vi s’volt gebetn zikh a yunge harts
bay beymer fun dem vald:
retung, retung!
un s’ligt a gantse shtot
an oysgeheylikte far toyt,
mit vegn ofene,
un banen — pyavkes tsugezoygene baym zayt,
un s’kon fun dortn keyner nisht antloyfn.
un ikh bin oykh an oysgebodene ahergekumen,
in vaysn vesh,
a zevekh farn vald,
fun shtet un vander.
nor s’zenen elastish frish
bay mir di odern un blut.
un efsher, kh’vel di eyntsike antloyfn
fun shtot geheylikter far toyt. Khezhvndike nekht
THIS WEEK
Avrom Sutskever, ניט אײנס, ניט צװײ, ניט װיפֿל טױזנט, Not one, not two, not how-many-thousands
Kadye Molodovski, II פֿרויען־לידער, WOMEN-POEMS, II
Avrom Sutskever, Nit eyns, nit tsvey
4: 1And the LORD spoke unto Moses and unto Aaron, saying: 2‘Take the sum of the sons of Kohath from among the sons of Levi, by their families, by their fathers’ houses,
ד: 1 און גאָט האָט גערעדט צו משהן און צו אַהרֹנען, אַזױ צו זאָגן: 2 נעם אױף די צאָל פֿון די קינדער פֿון קהָת פֿון צװישן די קינדער פֿון לֵוִי, לױט זײערע משפּחות, לױט זײערע פֿאָטערהײַזער,
Sutzkever as partisan
For a biography of Avrom Sutzkever in English and Yiddish, see Week 1.
Not one, not two, not how-many-thousands . . . Oh many “Nots,”
we stood at night by the red-hot crater.
A mistake, not “We,” a half spark in its final quiver
returned, mute-returned, to its home, to the crater.
That half spark was me, and within-all:
not one, not two, not how-many-thousands. Child, bride and groom.
And their souls didn’t believe in my Kaddish:
Has a brother really wandered his way back?
Has anyone in the fabric-air torn his clothes in mourning
No Jews around. Only the waves of the Viliya move.
And I, the half spark by the crater,listen: They go
the waves go, and the Jews stand rigid in rows.
Lava gushes out from the craterover the entire region,
I recognize so many faces I once met sometime ago.
Not one, not two, not how-many-thousands. Oh my so many “Nots”and I, that half spark, am among them, in the midst ofthem.
Tr. Richard Fein, The Full Pomegranate: Poems of Avrom Sutzkever, 2019
nit eyns, nit tsvey, nit vifl toyznt, vey, azoy fil nitn
geshtanen zenen mir bay nakht baym krater dem tseglitn.
a toes, nit keyn ‘mir”, a halber funk in letstn flater
hot umgekert zikh, shtumgekert zikh tsu zayn heym, tsum krater.
der halber funk bin ikh geven, un ineveynik—ale:
nit eyns, nit tsvey, nit vifl toyznt, kind un khosn-kale.
un s’hobn zeyere neshomes nit gegleybt mayn kadesh:
tsi hot zikh take umgekert a bruder na-venadish?
hot emets in der layvntener luft gerisn krie?
nito keyn yidn. s’geyen bloyz di khvalyes in viliye.
un ikh, der halber funk baym krater, horkh: zey geyen, geyen,
di khvalyes geyen, un di yidn glivern in reyen.
fun krater shlogt aroys a lave iber gorer gegnt,
kh’derken azoy fil penimer a mol, a mol bagegnt:
nit eyns, nit tsvey, nit vifl toyznt, vey, azoy fil nitn
un ikh, der halber funk, bin tsvishn alemen, in mitn.
Kadye Molodovski, fun Froyen-lider, Lid II
5:18 Then the kohen shall stand the woman up before the Lord and expose the [hair on the] head of the woman; he shall place into her hands the remembrance meal offering, which is a meal offering of jealousies, while the bitter curse bearing waters are in the kohen’s hand.
I will come to the one
Who first brought me woman’s delight,
And say, Husband,
I trusted someone else with my quiet gave,
And one night laid my head down near him.
Now I bring my sorrow
Like bees stinging around my hear,
And have no honey to soothe the hurt.
And when my husband takes me by the braid,
I will drop to my knees
And remain on the doorsill like the petrifcation of Sodom.
I will raise my hands to my head
As my mother used to, blessing the candles,
But my fingers still stand up like ten numbered sins.
By permission of translator
Kathryn Hellerstein: Paper Bridges: Selected Poems of Kadya Molodowsky
FROYEN LIDER II
Tsu dem vel ikh kumen,
Ver s’hot der ershter mir mayn froyenfreyd gebrakht
Un zogn: man,
Kh’hob nokh eynem mayn shtiln blik fartroyt
Un in a nakht lem im mayn kop geleygt,
Ersht hob ikh mayn tsar,
Vi binen ongeshtokhene arum mayn harts gebrakht
Un hob keyn honik nit oyf lindern mayn vund.
Un s’vet der man mikh nemen farn tsop,
Vel ikh aniderbrekhn zikh oyf beyde fis
Un blaybn oyfn shvel vi di farshteynerung fun Sdom,
Ikh vel di hent aroyfheybn tsum kop,
Vi s’flegt mayn mame baym bentshn likht,
Nor s’veln mayne finger shteyn vi tsen getseylte zind.
WEEK 32
Sholem Ash, דער חינוך פֿון דער שול, The Dedication of the Synagogue from Kidesh-Hashem Avrom Sutskever, אין מידבר סיני 10, From In the Sinai Desert X
Sholem Ash, Der khinekh fun der shul
2:1And the LORD spoke unto Moses and unto Aaron, saying: 2‘The children of Israel shall pitch by their fathers’ houses; every man with his own standard, according to the ensigns; a good way off shall they pitch round about the tent of meeting.
און גאָט האָט גערעדט צו משהן און צו אַהרֹנען, אַזױ צו זאָגן:
אין מיטן דער שול איז געשטאַנען דער באַלעמער, אױסגעשניצט אױס האַרטן ניסהאָלץ די נעמען פֿון די צװעלף שבֿטים מיט זײערע דגלים. יעדער שבֿט האָט געהאַט זײַן דגל און זײַן קאָליר. יהודה, אַלס דער קעניג, האָט זיך געגלאַנצט אין גאָלד מיט דעם לײב צו פֿוסן. שמעון מיט זײַן אונטערטעניקע שטאָט שכם, װוּ עס האָבן זיך געהױבן די מױערן און טורעמס פֿון דער שטאָט, װאָס שמעון האָט אײַנגענומען פֿאַר די שאַנד פֿון זײַן שװעסטער. און געשװוּמען איז די שיף פֿון זבֿולון אין אַ ים פֿון זילבער. מיט גרינע שטײנער איז געװען אױסגעלייגט דער בליִענדער בױם, דער צײכן פֿון אשר. און געגאָסן אױס קופּער איז געװען די שלאַנג פֿון דן. און איבערן באַלעמער איז געהאַנגען אַ חופּה, װי אַ טיף־בלױע נאַכט, אין װעלכער עס האָבן זיך געפֿינקלט גאָלדענע שטערן. און די צװעלף מזלות פֿון חודש זײַנען אַרומגעשװוּמען אין די בלױע נאַכט, יעדער מזל איבער יעדן שבֿט. און אױפֿן באַלעמער זײַנען איצט געשטאַנען די בעל־בתים מיט די ספֿרי־תּורות אין די הענט, גרײט אַװעקצולייגן זײ אין דעם נײַעם הױז, װאָס זײ האָבן געבױט פֿאַר גאָט. צװישן די בעלי־בתים שטייט ר’ יעקבֿ כהן פֿון דײַטשלאַנד און דאָס ספֿר־תּורה איז דאָס אײנציקע, װאָס איז אים איבערגעבליבן פֿון זײַן צאָלרײַכער פֿאַמיליע און פֿון דער גאַנצער קהילה, װעלכע איז צערונען און אַנטרונען געװאָרן אין אַלע פֿיר עקן פֿון דער װעלט. און אָט שטעט ר’ ישראל מיטן ספֿר־תּורה פֿון דער שול פֿון שטאָט אַש. פֿאַרלאָרן געװאָרן זײַנען אין דער בהלה דאָס װײַב מיט די קינדער. איז ער געקומען קײן פּױלן זוכן זײ. װאָרום געזאָגט האָט מען אים, אַז פֿיל ייִדן פֿון ביימען זײַנען קײן פּױלן ניצול געװאָרן, האָט ער געװאַנדערט פֿון יאָרמאַרק צו יאָרמאַרק, ביז ער איז מיט זײַן קינד קײןזלאָטשעװ אָנגעקומען און דאָרט זיך באַזעצט.
און צװישן די אַלטע בעלי־בתים, זאַט מיט צרות, אױסגעפּרוּװטע אין פֿײַער פֿון קידוש־השם, מיט די ספֿר־תּורות פֿון די חרובֿ־געװאָרענע קהילות אין די הענט, איז געשטאַנען דער נײַער בעל־הבית, דער פּרנס הקהל ר’ מענדל, מיט דעם נײַעם ספֿר־תּורה, װאָס ער האָט שױן געלאָזט שרײַבן פֿאַר דער שול פֿון דער נײַער ייִדישער קהילה פֿון זלאָטשעװ. קײן מענטעלע באַפֿלעקט מיט בלוט פֿון קדושים און מיט טרערן פֿון אַנטלאָפֿענע טראָגט דאָס נײַע ספֿר־תּורהלע נאָך נישט.
The Dedication of the Synagogue from Kidesh-Hashem by Sholem Asch
In the center of the synagogue stood the platform built of hard chestnut wood and carved with the names of the twelve tribes and their standards. Each tribe had its own flag and color. Judah, as the king was brilliant with gold, with the lion at his feet; Simeon was his captured city of Shechem, where rose the walls and towers of that city which he had conquered to avenge the shame of his sister; and the ship of Zebulon floated in a sea of silver; the blossoming tree, the symbol of Asher, was studded with green stones; out of copper was fashioned the serpent of Dan. And above the platform hung a canopy like the deep blue sky of the evening in which golden stars twinkled and the twelve signs of the Zodiac floated in the blue night, each over its corresponding tribe. On the platform there now stood the leading mean with the scrolls of the Torah in their arms, ready to place them in the new dwelling which they had built for the glory of God. Among them stands Reb Jacob Cohen from Germany, and the scroll which he holds is the only thing left to him of his numerous family and of the entire community which was scattered and dispersed to the four corners of the earth. And there stands Reb Israel with the scroll of the synagogue of the city of Asch. During the panic he had become separated from his wife and children, so he had come to Poland to look for them. For he had been told that many Jews from Bohemia had saved themselves in Poland. He had wandered from one fair to another until he came to Zlochov with his child and settled there.
And among these old worthies, rich with tribulations and tested in the fires of martyrdom, with the scrolls of the devastated communities in their arms, stood the new leader, the parnas of the community, Reb Mendel with a new scroll which had been written at his behest for the new community of Zlochov. The new scroll has as yet no covering stained with the blood of martyrs and with the tears of fugitives. Kiddush Ha-Shem, Tr. Rufus Learsi
der khinekh fun der shul
fun kidesh־hashem
in mitn der shul iz geshtanen der balemer, oysgeshnitst oys hartn nisholts di nemen fun di tsvelf shvotem mit zeyere dgolim. yeder shevet hot gehat zayn degl un zayn kolir. Yehude, als der kenig, hot zikh geglantst in gold mit dem leyb tsu fusn. shimen mit zayn untertenike shtot shkhem, vu es hobn zikh gehoybn di moyern un turems fun der shtot, vos shimen hot ayngenumen far di shand fun zayn shvester. un geshvumen iz di shif fun zvuln in a yam fun zilber. mit grine shteyner iz geven oysgeleygt der bliender boym, der tseykhn fun osher. un gegosn oys kuper iz geven di shlang fun Don. un ibern balemer iz gehangen a khupe, vi a tif-bloye nakht, in velkher es hobn zikh gefinklt goldene shtern. un di tsvelf mazoles fun khoydesh zaynen arumgeshvumen in di bloye nakht, yeder mazl iber yedn sheyvet. un oyfn balemer zaynen itst geshtanen di bal|-ebatim mit di sifre-|toyres in di hent, greyt avektsuleygn zey in dem nayem hoyz, vos zey hobn geboyt far got. tsvishn di baley|-batim shteyt r’ Yankev koyen fun daytshland un dos seyfer-|toyre iz dos eyntsike, vos iz im ibergeblibn fun zayn tsolraykher familye un fun der gantser kehile, velkhe iz tserunen un antrunen gevorn in ale fir ekn fun der velt. un ot shtet r’ Yisroel mitn seyfer-|toyre fun der shul fun shtot Ash. farlorn gevorn zaynen in der behole dos vayb mit di kinder. iz er gekumen keyn poyln zukhn zey. vorum gezogt hot men im, az fil yidn fun beymen zaynen keyn poyln nitsl gevorn, hot er gevandert fun yormark tsu yormark, biz er iz mit zayn kind keynzlotshev ongekumen un dort zikh bazetst.
un tsvishn di alte baley|-batim, zat mit tsores, oysgepruvte in fayer fun kidesh-hashem, mit di sofre-|toyres fun di khorev|-gevorene kehiles in di hent, iz geshtanen der nayer balebos_, der parnes hakoyel r’ mendl, mit dem nayem seyfer-|toyre, vos er hot shoyn gelozt shraybn far der shul fun der nayer yidisher kehile fun zlotshev. keyn mentele baflekt mit blut fun kedoyshem un mit trern fun antlofene trogt dos naye sfr-|toyre|le nokh nisht.
Avrom Sutskever, In midber Sinay X
2:1And the LORD spoke unto Moses and unto Aaron, saying: 2‘The children of Israel shall pitch by their fathers’ houses; every man with his own standard, according to the ensigns; a good way off shall they pitch round about the tent of meeting.
און גאָט האָט גערעדט צו משהן און צו אַהרֹנען, אַזױ צו זאָגן:
For a biography of Sutzkever in English and Yiddish, see Week 1.
אין מידבר סיני X
און פּלוצעם קומען אױפֿן באַרג די שטערן,
צונױפֿגעװאַנדערט פּונקט װי מיר פֿון גלות.
באַנומענע פֿון ליכט, מיר זעען, הערן:
די מענטשן װערן אײנס מיט די מזלות.
און אויפֿן באַרג, דורך בליצנדיקער אימה,
אַ ייִנגל מיט אַ פֿאָן. ער גיט זי איבער
אַ האַנט, וואָס נעמט זי אויבן אַ געהיימע,
און זאַלבט מיט אייביקייט, און בענטשט דעם גיבור.
און װער עס האָט געזען די נאַכט אין סיני,
געדענקען װעט דער סיני אױך זײַן נאָמען.
און װער עס האָט געזען די פּראַכט אין סיני
װעט קענען טױזנט יאָר דערצײלן. אָמן. אַבֿרהם סוצקעווער, אין מידבר סיני, 1957
From In the Sinai Desert
X Avrom Sutzkever
Suddenly the stars burst into the mountain,
Having drifted back from exile just as we did.
Wrapped in light, we see, we hear:
The People have become one with their destiny
And on the mountains, through flashing terror
A lad with a flag. He delivers it
To a hand above that receives it mysteriously
And anoints the hero with eternity, and blesses him.
And whoever has seen night in the Sinai,
Sinai will remember his name.
And whoever has seen the glory in Sinai
Will be able to tell it for a thousand years. Amen. Tr. David Hirsch and Roslyn Hirsch.
in midber sinay
X
un plutsem kumen oyfn barg di shtern,
tsunoyfgevandert punkt vi mir fun goles.
banumene fun likht, mir zeen, hern:
di mentshn vern eyns mit di mazoles.
un oyfn barg, durkh blitsndiker eyme,
a yingl mit a fon. er git zi iber
a hant, vos nemt zi oybn a geheyme,
un zalbt mit eybikayt, un bentsht dem giber.
un ver es hot gezen di nakht in sinay,
gedenken vet der sinay oykh zayn nomen.
un ver es hot gezen di prakht in sinay
vet kenen toyznt yor dertseyln. omeyn.
avrom sutskever, in midber sinay, 1957
THIS WEEK Sholem Aleichem, פֿון „אַ מענה־לשון פֿון אַ שטיפֿמאַמע”, From “A Stepmother’s Invective”
Sholem Aleichem, A mayne-loshn fun a shtifmame
The list of curses (toykhekhe) goes from 26: 14- 45 but a few verses should be enough to give you the idea.
26: 14But if ye will not hearken unto Me, and will not do all these commandments; 15and if ye shall reject My statutes, and if your soul abhor Mine ordinances, so that ye will not do all My commandments, but break My covenant; 16I also will do this unto you: I will appoint terror over you, even consumption and fever, that shall make the eyes to fail, and the soul to languish; and ye shall sow your seed in vain, for your enemies shall eat it. 17And I will set My face against you, and ye shall be smitten before your enemies; they that hate you shall rule over you; and ye shall flee when none pursueth you.
In this chapter of his autobiography Sholem Aleichem recounts how is widowed father goes Berditchev to bring back a stepmother for the children. At first she is on her best behavior, but . . .
Only in a week or two, did Stepmother show her true disposition and fiery temper. First, her language, her authentic Berditchev stepmotherly vocabulary-glib, juicy, blooming. Every word was accompanied by a curse, delivered good-naturedly.
For example: If she said “Eat,” she’d add: May the worms eat you! Drink: May leeches drink your blood! Yell: May a toothache make you yell! Sew: May they sew shrouds for you! Go: Go to hell! Stand: Stand on your feet till you drop! Sit: Sit on scorpions! Lie: Lie six feet under! Talk: Talk in delirium! Silence: Fall silent forever! Have: Have troubles! • Not have: May you not have any peace! Carry: May an ill wind carry you away! Carry in: May you be carried in on a stretcher! Carry out: May you be carried out feet first! Carry around: May you be carried around in a basket! Carry away: May you be carried away to the cemetery!
Now take an innocent word like “write.” Write: May they write prescriptions for you! Written down: May you be written down for death! Written up: May you be written up in shame! Written off: May a madman be written off amadhouse rosterand you be written in!
Sometimes when Stepmother was in a good mood and latched onto a word, she’d twist it and turn itand stretchitlike dough—there was no stopping her. She’d let it out in one breath, like the Megilla reader rattling off the ten’. sons of Haman on Purim, and in rhyme no less:
“God Almighty, may you be bitten and smitten, eaten and beaten, swell and yell; may you get gout and shout, ha:ve aches andbreaks and itches and twitches, dear merciful Father in heaven!”
The hero of this autobiography must admit that many of the curses and maledictions in his works came straight from his stepmother’s invective. Very early on, before Sholom knew anything about writing, and never even dreamed he would be a writer, he wanted to jot down all of Stepmother’s curses just for the funofitandcollect them into a little dictionary. He assiduously gatheredthemone by one until he had enough material toalphabetize.He sweatedover this for a couple of nights and assembledquite a nice lexicon,which if memory serves him went something like this:
In dem kaptil fun zayn oytobyografish verk Funem yarid dertseylt sholem aleykhem vi der tate, an almen, fort keyn berditshev kedey tsu gefinen a shtifmame far di kinder. tsu ersht, dakht zikh,
iz men geven tsufridn mitn onkuk. a yidene a bekoved|e, nisht keyn narishe, un der eykr—a liblekhe, tsugelozte, a gute, a mentsh on a gal haynt vos hobn shey do gepildet, gemakht onshteln— “shtifmamye”? . .
in a vokh arum oder in tsvey, hot zikh di shtifmame aroysgevizn mitir hitsikn temperament un koydem-Kol aroys mitir shprakh, mitir emes barditshever shtifmame-losun, a shprakh a glate, a raykhe, a blumendike. oyf itlekhs vort a klole, un tsum gram, un davke in
gutn mut. lemoshl:
esn—esn zoln dikh verem!
trinken—trinken zoln dikh pyavkes!
shrayen—shrayen zolstu oyf di tseyn!
farneyen—neyen zol men aykh Takhrikhim!
geyn—geyn zolstu in der erd!
shteyn—shteyn zolstu pravtsem!
zitsn—zitsn zoltir in gehakte vundn!
lign—lign zolt ir in der erd!
redn—redn zoltir fun hits!
shvaygn—antshvign zoltir vern oyf eybik!
zogn—gezogt zol aykh vern al dos beyz!
hobn—hobn zolstu makes-bkhoyres
nit hobn—nit hobn zolstu keyn guts vayl du lebst!
trogn—trogn zol dikh der ruekh oyf di pleytses!
arayntrogn—arayntrogn zol men dikh a krankn!
aroystrogn—aroystrogn zol men dikh a toytn.
arumtrogn—arumtrogn zol men dikh oyf di hent!
avektrogn—avektrogn zol men dikh oyfn besoylem!
tsi, a shteyger, lemoshl, nemt aza umshuldik vort,vi shraybn?
iz shraybn zol men dir retseptn!
farshraybn—farshribn zolstu vern tsum toyt!
opshraybn—opshraybn zol men dikh fun kedokhes!
araynshraybn—a meshugenem oysmekn un dikh araynshraybn! . . .
un a mol, iz zi geven oyfgeleygt un a vort hot zikh arayngekhaptir in moyl arayn, hot zikh es gedreyt un geflokhtn un gegosn zikh un getsoygn zikh, vi a guter boyml, gor on an opshtel, un in eyn otem, vi bay a gutn khazn di aseres bney homen : “s’zol dir onkhapn, reboyne-shel-oylem, a shtekhenish un a brekhenish, a raysenish un a baysenish, a trikenish, a fartrikenish, an oystrikenish, an ayntrikenish, a darenish, a fardarenish, an ayndarenish, a shrimpenish, an aynshrimpenish, liber got! hartsiker foter, getrayer!”
der held fun der doziker byografye iz zikh moyde, az a hipsh bisl kloles un shlogverter in zayne shpeterdike verk hot er genasht fun der shtifmame un funir mayneloshn. nokh gor-gor in di yunge yorn, er hot nokh gornisht gevust, vos shraybn badayt un hot nokh gor afile nit ge|kholem|t, az er vet a mol zayn a shrayber, hot zikh im, als kuryoz, farvolt farshraybn ale kloles, vos er hot zikh ongehert fun zayn shtifmame, tsunoyfzamlen zey in eynem, makhn a min verter-bikhl. hot er zikh nit gefoylt, gezamlt un gezamlt, un az er hot zey ongezamlt a hipsh bisl, hot er zey genumen sortirn nokhn alef-beys, opgeshvitst a por gute nekht un tsunoyfgeshtelt a gants faynem leksikon, al-pi a”b, velkher es vert do gegebn nor oyfn zikorn:
a—evyen, umglik, idyot, eyzl, ayngegesene briye, opgerisener nar, ashmeday
b—bolvan, bodyung, batlen, baytel-shnayder, blinderhots, beder, bezem, betler, berntrayber, balegole, bashefenish.
g—goy, goylem, gadlen, gazlen, ganev, geshleyerte handzye.
d—donoshtshik, dover-akher, dales, derkatsh.
h—holedrantsyes, hotsmakh, hotseklots, hultay, hintshleger, hinkediker shnayder, homen, hefker-yung.
v—vants, viste kalike, veverk, veremiker, vetsidkoskhe
z—zaike, zak polove, zoyere kislitse, zumerfoygl, zoyfer, zitsfleysh.
kh—khalifusnik, khaper, khoyzek, khazer, khayem-yenkel, khokhem-b|layle, kholere.
t—toter, torbe, toygenikhts, tipesh, terkisher fefer, treyfe kishke.
y—yatke-hunt, yungatsh, yurke, yemakh|-shmoynik, yam-koter,
K—Kazvn, Kol-boynik, kelev shebiklovim.
l—lobus, labaznik, loder, loy-yutslekh lamtern-shiser,
ligner, leydikgeyer, lamed-vovnik.
m—malpe, mametlive bokher, mondrish, maged, melamed, meshumed.
n—narish ponem, napudele, nasher, nudnik, nikhpenik.
s—savule, svolotsh, svishtshun, smarkatsh.
e—azes-ponem, oni-ve|evyen,ipesh, ekdish, akshn.
p—paskudnyak, patsyore, partatsh, parkh, pustepasnik, pupik, pipernoter, pletsl, pentelele, pempik, pereodem, pritshepe.
f—fonfatsh, falsher mentsh, foylyak, fayfer, flyaskedrige, flokht, flokn-shiser, fardatsh, farshlepte krenk, freser.
ts—tsvuyak, tsadik in pelts, tsure-melukhhe, tseylem-kop, tsebrokhener sharbn, tsoras.
k—katorzhnik, kokhlefl, kalike, kartoflye-shlinger, kortn-shpiler, kapelyush-makher, kabtsn, koymen-kerer, kishke on a dno, klek, krikher, kashkeshes.
r—royter, retseyekh, rekhiles|nik, retekh, roshe-merushe.
sh — sharlatan, shabes|-goy, shoyte fun pikholts, shuster, sheygets, shlyatentsh, shikse, shlang, shlimzl, shmate, shmad-kop, shminder begets, shmendrik, shnoyts mit broyt, shkrab.
T—Terekh . . .
Fun Funem yarid
25:44 – 46 And as for thy bondmen, and thy bondmaids, whom thou mayest have: of the nations that are round about you, of them shall ye buy bondmen and bondmaids. 45Moreover of the children of the strangers that do sojourn among you, of them may ye buy, and of their families that are with you, which they have begotten in your land; and they may be your possession. 46And ye may make them an inheritance for your children after you, to hold for a possession: of them may ye take your bondmen for ever; but over your brethren the children of Israel ye shall not rule, one over another, with rigour.
The orchards of herhome
still blossom in her glances
and in her dreams great flocks
of geese are feathered;
she used to drive baby geese
to the pond every spring
and guard them from the crows and owls but now
for days shewalks around
bewildered and her whole
body greedily drinks in
the fragrance from the new-cut
wood piled up by the stove
ready for burning.
Her faraway home was so
beautiful but it was a small
farm poor and rocky and
there were seven mouths
to feed so she the oldest
came to the city and here
her two hands are now the oars
which row her life through
dark and steamy kitchens.
When she gets a letter
from the neighbor’s son
she runs to strangers
hanging on their glances,
first she reads their faces
for goodwill then begsֿthem
quietly to read her letter,
to tell her all they
must tell allall that
he has written! Then she
sees their scornful smiles
at his loutish crudely formed
letters which for hercontain
the alphabet oflove,
and she blushes, hides her face
for shame.
All week long her heart
composes answers until
at last it’s Sunday and
the words are put down
beside each other like
invalids on pink paper
decorated with doves
and wreaths of roses.
Her girl friend scribbles
the words in a hurry then
reads out whatever was dictated ending with
kisses and respectfully
yours; she smiles fleetingly
and in the corners of her mouth
lurk the shy love words
she has nursed all week
and there they hover
captive and unspoken.
Sometimes in an hour of rest
she opens the old prayer book
with a gold cross embossed
on its black cover, with awkward
hands she caresses the strange
letters, words full of God
and love and mercy and her eyes
grow dreamy thinking about
the miraculous world of A B C.
The world she knows
is tied in a thousand knots,
even the world of her prayer book
with its circles and lassos
is like some Judas: treacherous:
ready to sell her in a minute
for thirty hard days
of labor in every month.
Tr. Miriam Waddington A Treasury of Yiddish Poetry Eds. Irving Howe and Eliezer Greenberg, 1969
di dinst
es blien in ir blik nokh alts di seder fun ir heym —
un az es kumt tsu kholem a stade gendzelekh, vi veykher, geler pukh,
velkhe zi hot getribn frilingtsayt tsum vaser
un gehitn far kroen un yastrubes flinke
fun ir finftn yor on,
geyt zi demolt um a gantsn tog tsetumlt
un zhedne trinkt zi mitn gantsn guf dem reyekh funshaytlekh holts,
vos lign greyt tsum heytsn lebn oyvn
un shmekn mit heym.
yo, es iz azoy sheyn ir vayte heym,
nor s’iz zamdik un moger dos kleyne shtik feld,
vos darf shpayzn di zibn mayler fun der shtub.
iz zi, di elt|ste, avek in der shtot
un ire tsvey hent zenen vesles,
vos rudern ir lebn durkh der faykhter parefun di tunkle kikhn.
un az s’kumt teyl mol on a briv fun shokhns zun,
loyft zi a gliklekhe tsu fremde mentshn,
kukt lang, hakhnoedik in zeyere oygn,
vartndik biz s’vet dos tsukn fun der brem
bashtetikn dem fremdns gutn viln,
un bet dan shtil, men zol ir iberleyenen ales,
ales,vos er shraybt.
un der naketiker shmeykhl oyf di fremde lipn
bay yedn umgelumpert-royen vort,
vos bahalt in zikh a gantsn yam fun tsertlekhkayt un libe,
yogt on dos blut tsu ir farshemtn ponem.
zi trogt a gantse vokh in harts dem entfer,
biz s’shteyen endlekh in a zuntikdikn tog
oyf a roze-blasn blat papir
unter taybelekh gepentete mit royte royznkrents
verter fremde, shtayfe, vi di invalidn,
verter, vos s’hot di khaverte in aylenish geshribn.
un az di frayndin leyent ir for dem briv,
vos endikt zikh mit kushn un mit “groyser akhtung”,
blaybt demolt ergets in a vinkl fun ir lip a mider shmeykhl
un s’blaybn on a zayt farshemt di verter ale,
vos zi hot a gantse vakh umzist in harts gevaremt.
trogt zi zey tsurik mit zikh in kikh,
vu es shvenkt zey op baynakht a shtrom fun shtile trern.
ire finger, durkh velkhe s’flist mit vundike un tunkele risn
der gantser shmuts fun shtub,
rirn zikh tsu mit erfurkht, mit khshad un mit ekl
tsu yedn shtikl glatikn, bashribenem papir,
vos zey trefn ergets vu baym roymen
un kenen es nisht goyver zayn durkh sine.
un teyl mol in di karge opru-shoen ire
makht zi oyf dos alte Tfile-bikhl
mitn gildnem kreyts oyf zayne shvartse tovlen,
glet mit tseshprung’ne finger iber tunkle oysyes,
vos zenen ful mit got, mit rakhomem un mit libe.
un s’blaybndemolt ire oygn shtum un gloybik
far der fremder velt fun alf-|bes,
der velt, vos iz farknipt far ir oyf toyznt knipn,
der velt, vos leyzt zikh oyf in krayzn un elipsn
un farkoyft zi yede rege, vi a yudas
far draysik harte, shvere teg fun khoydesh
tsu ir goyrl. heym un heymlozikayt, buenos-ayres, 1948
THIS WEEK
Aleksander Shpiglblat, בלינדע, Blind People
Aleksander Shpiglblat, דער בלינדער, The Blind Man
Khayem Grade, שבת, Sabbath
Aleksander Shpiglblat, Blinde
Shpiglblat, Der blinder
21:17 “Say to Aaron: ‘For the generations to come none of your descendants who has a defectmay come near to offer the food of his God. 18 No man who has any defect may come near: no man who is blind or lame, disfigured or deformed;
At the time I didn’t understand
That the corpulent blind man,
Squatting on all fours near the Greek Orthodox church
Was an incarnation of Gautama Buddha.
His head — a radiant copper ball,
With the cataract whites of his eyes naked, grinning,
Like yellow almonds stripped of their shell —
His head hovering over his stomach, like a copper barrel,
Wrapped around with a holy beggar’s shirt from his sack.
At the time I didn’t understand his muttering
When he heard the sound of a coin in his plate.
But the riddle of his blind eyes
Follows me, together
With the terrorof the church
And from time to time I hear his voice
Pouring down in my memory.
And this is what he says, the beggar, Who apparently didn’t know
That he was a reincarnation of the radiant, sublime
Gautama Buddha:
The earth loves you,
Because you are blind
And you see in your blindness
The gold at its bottom.
It longs for your body
And you — for its mercy.
It is your terror
And you are its secret. In geln tsvishnlikht fun erev regn, Yisroel-bukh 1998
Tr. Sheva Zucker
Khayem Grade, Shabes
23: 3 On six days work may be done, but on the seventh day there shall be a sabbath of complete rest, a sacred occasion. You shall do no work; it shall be a sabbath of יהוה throughout your settlements.
/23:3 זעקס טעג זאָל געטאָן װערן אַרבעט, אָבער אױפֿן זיבעטן טאָג איז אַ שבת פֿון רוּונג, אַ הײליקע צונױפֿרופונג; קײן אַרבעט זאָלט איר ניט טאָן; דאָס איז שבת צו {dn גאָט} אין אַלע אײַערע װוינערטער.
אין מײַנע אױגן איז געבליבן שטײן פֿאַרטײַעט
אַ פֿרײַטאָגדיקע שקיִעה אין אַ שטילן װאַלד.
אױף אַלע בײמערשפּיצן ברענט דער שם־הװיה,
און בלעטער שושקען זיך: עס קומט דער שבת באַלד.
איך האָב דערקענט דעם ערבֿ־שבת אין די שקיִעות
װאָס האָבן מיטגעװאָגלט אױף מײַן נע־ונד
און האָבן זיך געקײַקלט הינטער מײַנע װיִעס
אין דרום־לאַנד, אין זאַמדיק־הײסן אַשכאַבאַד.
אַ זונפֿאַרגאַנג אַ קופּערנער, אין אײַז געקאָװעט,
האָט אָנגעשמידט מײַן האַרץ צו זינגען אין סיביר. און איך האָב אױך געהערט װי ס’זינגען שיר־הכּבֿוד
די פֿעלדזן די געצײנערטע פֿון דעם פּאַמיר.
איך האָב געזען װי בענטשליכט שימערן און צוקן
אױף שנײבערג פֿון אוראַל און אױף דעם אַלפּן־קײט.
װען ניט דער שבת, װאָלט מיך בלינד געמאַכט דאָס קוקן
װי טרױעריק די זון אױף אַלע בערג פֿאַרגײט.
איך האָב געזען װי שבת־רו שטילט אײַן די שטורעמס,
װאָס בלאָזן שטענדיק אױפֿן כמאַרנעם צפֿון־ים;
און װי זײַן שטילשװײַגן פֿאַלט אױך אױף קלױסטער־טורעמס—
די פֿליגל פֿון פּאַריזער קלױסטער נאָטר־דאַם.
און די געהײמע שקיִעה אױף די שפּיצן בײמער,
װאָס האָט באַשײַנט מײַן פּנים אין מײַן יוגנט נאָך,
באַשײַנט מײַן פּנים איצט נאָך פֿאָרכטיקער געהײמער,
װען אין די פֿענצטער פֿון ניו־יאָרק ברענט אױס די װאָך.
SABBATH
In my mind’s eye remains concealed
A forest sunset as Friday eve draws near.
I see the tree tops burn, the name of God revealed,
Leaves whispering: The Sabbath is soon here.
With the setting of the sun I felt the Sabbath imminent,
For in my wandering across the earth I’ve trod
And with my eyes closed I knew just what it meant
In the sandy desert, the heat of Ashkhabad.
Forged in ice a copper sun descended,
My heart so full of song in the frozen air of Sibir,
Songs of praise sung in voices blended
Rang throughout the valleys of the mountains of Pamir.
I saw the candles shine and shimmer with the coming of the night
ON the Urals and the Alps, their summits deep in snow.
And were it nor for Sabbath I would be blinded by the sight
Of the mountains growing dimmer in the sun’s descending glow/
I have seen how Sabbath peace can still the might ocean’s power,
The storms that blow incessantly across the cloudy sea;
And how its stillness also falls upon a church’s soaring tower
Rising from the streets of Paris to Notre-Dame’s belfry.
And the tops of the trees aflame as the sunset disappears,
Brought a shine upon my face in the long and bygone days,
Which shine still lights my face, despite my secret frears,
When the windows of New York reflect the week’s last dying rays.
Tr. Leon H. Gildin, The Poems of H. Leivick and Others: Yiddish Poetry in Translation
shabes khayem grade
in mayne oygn iz geblibn shteyn fartayet
a fraytogdike shkiye in a shtiln vald.
oyf ale beymershpitsn brent der sheym-havaye,
un bleter shushken zikh: es kumt der shabes bald.
ikh hob derkent dem erev-shabes in di shkiyes
vos hobn mitgevoglt oyf mayn na-venad
un hobn zikh gekayklt hinter mayne vies
in dorem-land dorem|-land, in zamdik-heysn ashkhabad.
a zunfargang a kuperner, in eyn gekovet,
hot ongeshmidt mayn harts tsu zingen in sibir.
un ikh hob oykh gehert vi s’zingen shir-hakoved
di feldzn di getseynerte fun dem pamir.
ikh hob gezen vi bentshlikht shimern un tsukn
oyf shneyberg fun ural un oyf dem alpn-keyt.
ven nit der shabes, volt mikh blind gemakht dos kukn
vi troyerik di zun oyf ale berg fargeyt.
ikh hob gezen vi shabes-ru shtilt ayn di shturems,
vos blozn shtendik oyfn khmarnem tsofn-yam;
un vi zayn shtilshvaygn falt oykh oyf kloyster-turems—
di fligl fun parizer kloyster notr-dam.
un di geheyme shkiye oyf di shpitsn beymer,
vos hot bashaynt mayn ponem in mayn yugnt nokh,
bashaynt mayn ponem itst nokh forkhtiker geheymer,
ven in di fenster fun nyu-york brent oys di vokh.
This was a double parshe but since it’s hard to follow blogs that are too long, I have divided it into two separate posts.
THIS WEEK
Malke Kheyfets Tuzman, פֿֿֿֿון הײַנט איז אײביק, from Today is Forever
Itsik Manger, רחל גײט צום ברונעם נאָך װאַסער, Rachel Goes to the Well for Water; רחל און לאה, Rachel and Leah (this one only in Yiddish and transliteration)
Malke Kheyfets Tuzman, fun Haynt iz eybik
16 4He [Aaron] shall put on the holy linen tunic, and he shall have the linen breeches upon his flesh, and shall be girded with the linen girdle, and with the linen mitre shall he be attired; they are the holy garments; and he shall bathe his flesh in water, and put them on.
17: 15And every soul that eateth that which dieth of itself, or that which is torn of beasts, whether he be home-born or a stranger, he shall wash his clothes, and bathe himself in water, and be unclean until the even; then shall he be clean. 16But if he wash them not, nor bathe his flesh, then he shall bear his iniquity.
I stroll often in a nearby park—
old trees wildly overgrown,
bushes and flowers blooming all four seasons,
a creek babbling childishly over pebbles,
a small bridge with rough-hewn railings—
this is my little park.
It’s mild and gentle
in the breath-song of the park
and good to catch some gossip
from the flutterers and fliers.
Leaning on the railing fo the bridge
seeing myself in clear water,
I ask, Little stream,
will you tumble and flow here
forever?
The creek babbles back, laughing, Today is forever.
Forever is right now.
I smile, a sparkful of believing,
a sight of not-believing:Today is forever.
Forever is right now . . . Tr. Marcia Falk, The Days Between: Blessings, Poem, and Directions of the Heart for the Jewish High Holiday Season, by Marci Falk, 2015
haynt iz eybik
oft ikh shpatsir in noentn parkl:
alte beymer megushemdik tsevaksn,
kustn, blumen in tsebli far ale fir sezonen,
a vaserl vos bulbult kindish iber shteyndlekh,
a brikl mit nis-gehublte porentshn —
dos iz mayn kleyner parkl.
mild iz mir un lind iz mir
in otem-nign funem park
un gut iz oyfkhapn a bisele rekhiles
fun fli-un-flatervarg.
ongelent on ploytl,
zikh shpiglendik in vaser-loyter,
ikh freg:
vestu, ritshkele, do bikhlen, taykhlen
eybik?
bulbult lakhndik dos taykhl:
“haynt iz eybik.
eybik iz ot itst”.
shmeykhl ikh a funkl gleybik
un a ziftsele nit gleybik:
haynt iz eybik.
eybik iz ot itst. haynt iz eybik
Itsik Manger, Rokhl geyt tsum brunem nokh vaser
18: 18 And thou shalt not take a woman to her sister, to be a rival to her, to uncover her nakedness, beside the other in her lifetime.
18:18 און אַ פֿרױ צו איר שװעסטער זאָלסטו ניט נעמען צו זײַן אַ מיטװײַב, צו אַנטפּלעקן איר שאַנד לעבן יענער בײַ איר לעבן.
portrait by Arur Kolnik
For a biography of Itsik Manger in both English and Yiddish, see Week 1
Rachel stands at the mirror and braids
The strands of her long, black hair;
She hears the sound of her father’s cough—
His wheezing on the stair.
Swiftly, she runs to the alcove,
“Quick, Leah—it’s Daddy, com.”
Leah hides her True Romance And slowly leaves her room.
Her face is weary, pale, and wan:
Her eyes red-rimmed with grief.
“Leah, you’re ruining your eyes;
Haven’t you read enough?”
Rachel takes the water jar
And starts off to the well.
The evening’s enough to make you weep—
So pale . . . so beautiful.
She passes through the darkling field.
A hare goes darting, quick
As lightning . . . a litle lamed-vov* Chirps in the grass— Tshirk.
A golden earring in the sky
Gives off a shimmering gleam.
“How I’d want them—ah, how much—
Were there but two of them.”
Nearby, a piper’s piping.
“Tri-li, tri-li, tri-li.
In the breath of every sheep and cow
Is the smell of dusk and hay.
She runs. It’s late. The Bible says
A guest waits at the well;
Today, the cat has washed itself:*
Rachel is fasting still.
She runs, and the golden earring casts
Above her its bright gleam.
Ah, how she would want those rings
Were there but two of them.
Tr. Leonard Wolf The World According to Itzik:Selected Poetry and Prose, Translated and edited by Leonard Wolf, Yale University Press, 2002
Rokhl geyt tsum brunem nokh vaser
Rokhl shteyt baym shpigl un flekht
ire lange shvartse tsep,
hert vi der tate hust
un sapet oyf di trep.
loyft zi gikh tsum alker tsu:
“Leye! der tate! shnel!”
Leye bahalt dem shundroman
un vayzt zikh oyf der shvel.
dos ponem bleykh un oysgetsamt,
di oygn royt un farveynt.
“Leye, makhst fun di oygn a tel,
genug shoyn far haynt geleynt”.
un Rokhl nemt dem vaserkrug
un lozt zikh tsum brunem geyn —
di demerung iz blo un mild,
khotsh nem un khap a veyn.
zi geyt un ibern tunklen feld
blitst shnel farbay a hoz.
—tshirik! — a lamed-vov|nikl
tshirket in tifn groz.
un oyfn himl shemerirt
an oyringl fun gold:
“ven s’voltn khotsh gevezn tsvey,
ay volt ikh zey gevolt”.
a fayfl fayft in der noent:
trili, trili, trili—
un s’shmekt mit demerung un hey
fun ale shof un ki.
zi loyft. shoyn shpet. in khumesh shteyt:
baym brunem vart a gast,
di kats hot zikh gevashn haynt
un zi hot haynt gefast.
zi loyft un s’finklt iber ir
dos oyringl fun gold:
ven s’voltn khotsh gevezn tsvey,
ay volt zi zey gevolt.
“Khumesh-lider”, Lid un balade
Unfortunately, I don’t have a translation of this next Manger poem yet but since I think it illustrates the problem of marrying two sisters better than the previous poem I decided to post it for the enjoyment of those who understand Yiddish.
Rokhl shteyt borves oyf der shvel
un trilert shtil a lid,
di shvalbn vos flatern farbay
shmekn mit friling un tsvit.
Yakov/Yankev, der likhtiker parshoyn,
iz ir gekumen tsu kholem bay nakht
un hot ir far zayn harter mi
dray sheyne matones gebrakht.
a bentsherl un shikhlekh fun lak
un a fingerl fun gold—
oy, ven di shvalbn voltn gevust,
vi shtark zi hot im holt!
zi zhmuret di oygn tsu der zun
un lakht un lakht un kvelt,
vos ot di eygene groyse zun
shaynt oykh oyf im in feld.
a
vintl lashtshet ire fis
un shtift in ire hor
un roymt ir shtil in oyer ayn:
“nokh gantse finef yor”.
“Rokhl! (di shvester Leye ruft)
di kave vert dir kalt”.
Rokhl tut a tsiter shtil:
“ot, teykef, Leye! bald!”
un zi vert troyerik mit a mol,
zi veyst az Leye veynt
oyf ir geleger yede nakht
un zi veyst dokh vos dos meynt. . .
un s’tut baym hartsn ir a klem un zi loyft in alker gikh:
“na dir, Leye,shvesterl kroyn,
dos bentsherl un di shikh!
un na dir, Leye, shvesterl kroyn,
dos fingerl fun gold,
nor loz far mir, far mir aleyn,
ot dem vos ikh hob holt”.
un s’otemt fun di shvester sharf
di benkshaft un der tsar
un ver s’lakht fun zey un shpet,
iz a roshe un a nar. . .
RACHEL GOES TO THE WELL FOR WATER
Rachel stands at the mirror and braids
The strands of her long, black hair;
She hears the sound of her father’s cough—
His wheezing on the stair.
Swiftly, she runs to the alcove,
“Quick, Leah—it’s Daddy, com.”
Leah hides her True Romance And slowly leaves her room.
Her face is weary, pale, and wan:
Her eyes red-rimmed with grief.
“Leah, you’re ruining your eyes;
Haven’t you read enough?”
Rachel takes the water jar
And starts off to the well.
The evening’s enough to make you weep—
So pale . . . so beautiful.
She passes through the darkling field.
A hare goes darting, quick
As lightning . . . a litle lamed-vov* Chirps in the grass— Tshirk.
A golden earring in the sky
Gives off a shimmering gleam.
“How I’d want them—ah, how much—
Were there but two of them.”
Nearby, a piper’s piping.
“Tri-li, tri-li, tri-li.
In the breath of every sheep and cow
Is the smell of dusk and hay.
She runs. It’s late. The Bible says
A guest waits at the well;
Today, the cat has washed itself:*
Rachel is fasting still.
She runs, and the golden earring casts
Above her its bright gleam.
Ah, how she would want those rings
Were there but two of them.
Tr. Leonard Wolf The World According to Itzik:Selected Poetry and Prose, Translated andedited by Leonard Wolf, Yale University Press, 2002
*lamed-vov: Cricket (also grasshopper), named after the Thirty-Six Good Men.
*the cat has washed itself: A sign of guests soon to arrive.
Rokhl geyt tsum brunem nokh vaser
Rokhl shteyt baym shpigl un flekht
ire lange shvartse tsep,
hert vi der tate hust
un sapet oyf di trep.
loyft zi gikh tsum alker tsu:
“Leye! der tate! shnel!”
Leye bahalt dem shundroman
un vayzt zikh oyf der shvel.
dos ponem bleykh un oysgetsamt,
di oygn royt un farveynt.
“Leye, makhst fun di oygn a tel,
genug shoyn far haynt geleynt”/
un Rokhl nemt dem vaserkrug
un lozt zikh tsum brunem geyn —
di demerung iz blo un mild,
khotsh nem un khap a veyn.
zi geyt un ibern tunklen feld
blitst shnel farbay a hoz.
—tshirik! — a lamed-vov|nikl
tshirket in tifn groz.
un oyfn himl shemerirt
an oyringl fun gold:
“ven s’voltn khotsh gevezn tsvey,
ay volt ikh zey gevolt”.
a fayfl fayft in der noent:
trili, trili, trili—
un s’shmekt mit demerung un hey
fun ale shof un ki.
zi loyft. shoyn shpet. in khumesh shteyt:
baym brunem vart a gast,
di kats hot zikh gevashn haynt
un zi hot haynt gefast.
zi loyft un s’finklt iber ir
dos oyringl fun gold:
ven s’voltn khotsh gevezn tsvey,
ay volt zi zey gevolt.
“Khumesh-lider”, Lid un balade
Kadye Molodovski, דאָס געזאַנג פֿון שבת, The Sabbath Song
Yankev Glatshteyn, עלטער, Old Age
Kadye Molodovski, Dos gezang fun Shabes
1And the LORD spoke unto Moses, saying: 2Speak unto all the congregation of the children of Israel, and say unto them: Ye shall be holy; for I the LORD your God am holy. 3Ye shall fear every man his mother, and his father, and ye shall keep My sabbaths: I am the LORD your God.
30Ye shall keep My sabbaths, and reverence My sanctuary: I am the LORD.
/19:1 און {dn גאָט} האָט גערעדט צו משהן, אַזױ צו זאָגן: /19:2 רעד צו דער גאַנצער עדה פֿון די קינדער פֿון ישׂראל, און זאָלסט זאָגן צו זײ:הײליק זאָלט איר זײַן, װאָרום איך {dn יהוה} אײַער {dn גאָט} בין הײליק. /19:3 איר זאָלט איטלעכער האָבן אָפּשײַ פֿאַר זײַן מוטער און זײַן פֿאָטער, און מײַנע שבתים זאָלט איר היטן: איך בין {dn יהוה} אײַער {dn גאָט}.
19:30 מײַנע שבתים זאָלט איר היטן, און פֿאַר מײַן הײליקטום זאָלט איר האָבן אָפּשײַ: איך בין {dn יהוה}.
I fought until Sabbath eve
With the six emperors
Of the six days of the week.
Sunday they confiscated my sleep.
Monday they scattered my salt.
And on the third day, my God,
They flung away my bread
And, above my face, they fenced with knights.
They caught my flying dove
And slaughtered her.
And so forth, until Friday dawn.
And this, you see, ends my whole week,
With the dying of my dove-flying.
At dusk, I kindled four candles
And the Sabbath Queen came to me.
Her countenance shone
My scattered salt
Glittered in the saltshaker,
And my dove, my flying dove,
Flapped her wings
And groomed her throat.
The Sabbath Queen blessed my candles.
They shone with a clear flame.
The light covered the days of the week
And the battle with the six emperors.
The greenness of mountains ls
The greenness of Sabbath.
The silver of a river—
ls the silver of Sabbath.
The song of the wind—
Is the singing of Sabbath.
And the song of my heart
Is the eternal Sabbath.
By permission of translator, Kathryn Hellerstein, Paper Bridges: Selected Poems of Kadya Molodowsky, 1999
dos gezang fun shabes
mit di zeks keysorem
fun di zeks teg fun der vokh
hob ikh zikh gekrigt biz erev|shabes.
zuntik hobn zey tsugenumen mayn shlof.
montik hobn zey mayn zalts tseshotn.
un oyfn dritn tog, mayn got,
hobn zey farshlaydert mayn broyt
un iber mayn ponem mit riter gefokhtn.
zey hobn gekhapt mayn fliendike toyb
un hobn zi geshokhtn.
un azoy biz fraytik in der fri.
un dos iz dokh mayn gantse vokh,
ven es shtarbt mayn toybn-fli.
far nakht hob ikh ongetsundn fir likht
un tsu mir iz gekumen di malke shabes.
es hot a loykht geton ir gezikht
un di gantse velt iz gevorn shabes.
mayn tseshotener zalts
hot gefinklt in zeltsl,
un mayn toyb, mayn fliendike toyb,
hot gepatsht mit di fligl
un gereynikt ir heldzl.
di malke shabes hot gebentsht mayne likht.
zey hobn geloykhtn mit a flam a klorn.
di shayn hot fardekt di teg fun der vokh
un dem krig mit di zeks keysorem.
di grinkayt fun berg —
iz di grinkayt fun shabes.
der zilber fun taykh —
iz der zilber fun shabes.
dos gezang fun dem vint —
iz dos zingen fun shabes.
un dos gezang fun mayn harts —
iz der eybiker shabes. likht fun dornboym, 1965
Yankev Glatshteyn, Elter
19 32Thou shalt rise up before the hoary head, and honour the face of the old man, and thou shalt fear thy God: I am the LORD.
In old age affection thins.
You move unsure
of your limbs
as of the ground,
calculating how keen
the spurs,
feeling the prick
of every given day.
A pity you missed
all those sunsets.
Flowers, trees, grass
stab you with thorn-song.
You tread your life
as if stepping on glass.
Shadows show shafts
of meaning. Like a gift
you acquire a cool smile.
You grow stingy
with God’s plenitude of time.
Tr. Cynthia Ozick, The Penguin Book of Modern Yiddish Verse, Edited by I. Howe, Ruth R. Wisse, and Chone Shmeruk, 1987
elter
di un durkhzikhtik
di libshaft fun eltere yorn.
bavegst zikh umzikher
oyf layb vi oyf erd.
mit rekhenung nemstu di kraft dayne shporn,
dershpirst dem shtokh fun yeder tog, vos iz dir bashert.
s’iz dir a shod vos host farzen
azoy fil zunfargangen.
un blumen, beymer un groz
kritsn ayn in dir dornike gezangen.
tret|st oyfn lebn vi oyf gloz.
shotns krign far dir a tifn batayt,
nemst on a kiln shmeykhl vi a geshank,
verst karg oyf gots shefe fun tsayt.
dem tatns shotn, 1953
THIS WEEK
Itsik Manger, די באַלאַדע פֿון דעם לײַזיקן מיט דעם געקרײציקטן, Di balade fun dem layzikn mit dem gekreytsiktsn
Kadye Molodovski, 2 אָטװאָצק Otvotsk II
Itsik Manger, Di balade fun dem layzikn mit dem gekreytsiktsn
Mark 1 40 A leper came to him begging him, and kneeling he said to him, “If you choose, you can make me clean.” 41 Moved with pity, Jesus stretched out his hand and touched him, and said to him, “I do choose. Be made clean!” 42 Immediately the leprosy left him, and he was made clean. 43 After sternly warning him he sent him away at once, 44 saying to him, “See that you say nothing to anyone; but go, show yourself to the priest, and offer for your cleansing what Moses commanded, as a testimony to them.” 45 But he went out and began to proclaim it freely, and to spread the word, so that Jesus could no longer go into a town openly, but stayed out in the country; and people came to him from every quarter.
2This shall be the law of the leper in the day of his cleansing: he shall be brought unto the priest. 3And the priest shall go forth out of the camp; and the priest shall look, and, behold, if the plague of leprosy be healed in the leper.
On the darkening road, stands the verminous man
Who rouses from sleep the crucified one.
“Tell me, O Jesus, where di you hear
That your crown is holier than my tear?
Jesus, tell me, who says that your crown
Is holier than all my pain?
King Jesus stammers, “I’m only a child
Who home is the wind where I’m crucified.”
King Jesus stammers, “Woe and thrice woe
To my scarlet spring amid fallen snow,”
Feverish, the verminous man says, “My home
is cobwebs and night and wind and loam.
Forever a stranger, wherever I go,
Lice flicker like stars in my shirt—they glow.
You are rocked on the wind by two women so mild.
One murmurs, ‘Beloved,’ the other says, ‘Child.’
There are pitying lips for each of your wounds;
They hallow your flesh, O crucified man,
While I am like shadows or dogs that bark,
or howl abandoned on roads after dark.”
King Jesus stammers, “O wretch, I believe Your dust is more holy, more holy your grief.”
From the crucified trickles a thin, sliver cry;
Smiling, the verminous man turns away
With heavy step toward the evening town
For a loaf of bread and a pitcher of wine. Tr. Leonard Wolf, Itzik Manger, The World According to Itzik: Selected Poetry and Prose, Yale University Press, 2002
di balade fun dem layzikn mit dem gekreytsiktn
itsik manger
shteyt der layziker oyfn tunklen shlyakh,
un vekt dem gekreytsiktn funm shlof:
—ver hot dir gezogt, o, yezus, ver,
az dayn kroyn iz heyliker fun mayn trer?
ver hot dir gezogt, o yezus, zog,
az dayn kroyn iz heyliker fun mayn plog?
shtamlt yezus: ikh bin a kind,
un mayn heym iz der tseylem oyfn vint.
shtamlt yezus : vey un draymol vey
tsu mayn roytn friling oyfn vaysn shney.
fibert der layziker: vu iz mayn heym?
shpinvebs un nakht un vint un leym.
vu ikh shtel mayn trot, bin ikh in der fremd,
un layz vi shtern brenen in mayn hemd.
un dikh tsvey froyen vign dikh oyf vint,
eyne shtamlt: “gelibter!” un di tsveyte: “kind.”
far dayn yeder vund iz a lip faran,
vos heylikn dayn guf, gekreytster man.
far dayn yedn dorn zenen kni faran,
vos heylikn dayn kreyts, gekreytster man.
un ikh bin tsu di hint un shotns glaykh,
vos voyen hefker oyfn tunklen shlyakh.
shtamlt yezus: layziker, ikh gloyb,
az dray mol heylik iz dayn trer un shtoyb!
un fun dem tseylem rint a zilbern geveyn,
shmeykhlt der layziker un lozt zikh freylekh geyn
mit shvere trit in shpetn dorf arayn
nokh a labn broyt, un nokh a bekher vayn.
Kadye Molodovski, Otvotsk II
This poem draws on verses from both Tazria and M’tsore.
Tazria
13: 3And the priest shall look upon the plague in the skin of the flesh; and if the hair in the plague be turned white, and the appearance of the plague be deeper than the skin of his flesh, it is the plague of leprosy; and the priest shall look on him, and pronounce him unclean. 4And if the bright spot be white in the skin of his flesh, and the appearance thereof be not deeper than the skin, and the hair thereof be not turned white, then the priest shall shut up him that hath the plague seven days. 5And the priest shall look on him the seventh day; and, behold, if the plague stay in its appearance, and the plague be not spread in the skin, then the priest shall shut him up seven days more.
Metsore
13: 8And he that is to be cleansed shall wash his clothes, and shave off all his hair, and bathe himself in water, and he shall be clean; and after that he may come into the camp, but shall dwell outside his tent seven days. 9And it shall be on the seventh day, that he shall shave all his hair off his head and his beard and his eyebrows, even all his hair he shall shave off; and he shall wash his clothes, and he shall bathe his flesh in water, and he shall be clean.
We are sick here—a multitude of locusts
Fallen suddenly upon the whiteness
Of the wintry wood.
With mouths open in putrid breathing,
We draw out a word like hoarse fiddles.
Who still need us,
Wrapped up in shawls, with feverish eyes?
And what use are we?
Pines raise their branches high
In order not to touch us,
in order to shun us, shun us.
We scream to the woods
And spit blood into their fragrant roots.
That’s why the trees stir at night and tell
How big is the cemetery here,
And mock the dying
To the last shadow of memory
With their tall growth, with their fat trunks
and millennial lives.
I am here, too, solitary,
Sick, wrapped in a shawl,
And I step slowly in the snow among the trees,
And no one know
That I am still myself.
By permission of translator, Kathryn Hellerstein, Paper Bridges: Selected Poems of Kadya Molodowsky
otvotsk
mir zaynen kranke do — a makhne
heysherikn tsugefalene tsu vayskayt fun dem
vinterdikn vald.
mit mayler ofene in foyln otem,
vi heyzerike fidlen tsien mir a vort,
in tikher ayngehilt, mit fiberdike oygn,
ver darf undz nokh?
un vos kenen mir toygn?
s’farheybn sosnes hoykh aroyf di tsvaygn,
kedey undz nit barirn,
kedey undz maydn, maydn.
mir gvaldeven dem vald,
un shpayen blut arayn tsu ayne shmekedike vortslen,
derfar bavegn zikh bay nakht di beymer un dertseyln,
vi groys iz do der beys-oylem,
un shpotn nokh bay goyses|e
dem letstn shotn fun gedank,
mit groys geviks, mit fetn shtam
in toyznt-yoredikn lebn.
bin ikh do oykh . . . an eyne.
a kranke ayngehilt in tukh,
un tret pamelekh inem shney tsvishn beymer
un s’veyst keyner
az ikh bin es dokh, ikh.
khezhvn|dike nekht,vilne, 1927
This week was a double parshe. Simply because it’s easier to scroll through smaller posts, I have divided Week 28 in two: Tazria and M’tsore.
THIS WEEK
Kadye Molodovski, 7 פֿרויען־לידער, Froyen-lider VII
Hinde Bergner, איך גײ צו קינד מיט דעם ערשטן זון — משה, Ikh gey tsu kind mit dem ershtn zun — Moyshe Kadye Molodovski: Otvotsk II (See Week 28: M’tsora
Kadye Molodovski, Froyen-lider VII
Leviticus 12 For a biography of Kadya Molodowsky in English and Yiddish, see week 5.
There are the spring nights
When up from under the stone, a grass blade pushes forth from the earth,
And fresh moss makes a green cushion
Under the skull of a dead horse,
And all of a woman’s limbs beg for the hurt of childbirth.
And women come and lie down like sick sheep
By wells to heal their bodies,
And their faces are dark
From long years of thirsting for the cry of a child.
These are the spring nights
When lightning splits the black earth
With silver slaughtering knives,
And pregnant women approach
White tables in the hospital with quiet steps
And smile at the yet-unborn child
And perhaps even at death.
These are the spring nights
When up from under a stone, a grass blade pushes forth from the earth.
By permission of translator, Kathryn Hellerstein, Paper Bridges: Selected Poems of Kadya Molodowsky, 1999;
Froyen-lider VII
In nekht azoyne frilingdike do,
Ven s’vakst unter a shteyn a groz fun dr’erd
Un s’bet der frisher mokh a grine kishn oys
Unter a sharbn fun a toytn ferd
Un ale glider fun a froy betn zikh tsu veytik fun geburt.
Un froyen kumen un leygn zikh vi kranke shof
Bay krenetses oyf heyln zeyer layb,
Un hobn shvartse penemer
Fun langyerikn dorsht tsum kinds geshrey.
In nekht azoyne frilingdike do,
Ven blitsn shnaydn oyf mit zilberne khalofim
Di shvartse erd,
Un froyen shvangere tsu vayse tishn fun shpitol
Kumen tsu mit shtile trit
Un shmeykhlen tsum nokh nit geborenem kind
Un efsher nokh tsum toyt.
In nekht azoyne frilingdike do,
Ven s’vakst unter a shteyn a groz fun dr’erd aroys.
Hinde Bergner, Ikh gey tsu kind mit dem ershtn zun — Moyshe
12 6And when the days of her purification are fulfilled, for a son, or for a daughter, she shall bring a lamb of the first year for a burnt-offering, and a young pigeon, or a turtle-dove, for a sin-offering, unto the door of the tent of meeting, unto the priest. 7And he shall offer it before the LORD, and make atonement for her; and she shall be cleansed from the fountain of her blood. This is the law for her that beareth, whether a male or a female.
For a biography of Hinde Bergner in English, click here.
איך גײ צו קינד מיט דעם ערשטן זון — משה פֿון אין די לאַנגע ווינטערנעכט, פֿון הינדע בערגנער
איך דערמאָן מיך װי איך בין געגאַנגען צו קינד מיט דעם ערשטן זון משה. אָנגעהױבן האָט זיך עס אין סאַמע שבת־צו נאַכט און די װײען זענען נאָך נישט געװען אַזױ גרױס, האָב איך מיך נישט געשראָקן און געטראַכט בײַ זיך, אַז אַלע פֿרױען האָבן דאָך קינדער, װעל איך אױך האָבן, כאָטש מיט יסורים. איך װעל אַלײן, אָן דעם דאָקטערס הילף געװינען. לײַדער האָבן די װײען אָנגעהאַלטן ביז מיטװאָך פֿאַר נאַכט און איך בין פֿאַר יסורים אַלע רגע אַרױס פֿון בעט, אַרומגעלאָפֿן מיט די לאַנגע געדיכטע בלאָנדע האָר צעפֿלאָכטן, װי אַ משוגענע. דאָס איז געװען בײַ מײַנע עלטערן אין שטוב און די אַלטע באַבע שײנדל האָט שױן אַלײן געהײסן שיקן נאָך דעם דאָקטער רײַס. דעמאָלט בין איך שױן געװען הײזעריק פֿון שרײַען. דערצו איז דאָס נאָך געװען אין אַ הײסן סעפּטעמבער־טאָג און די כּוחות זענען מיר שױן אױסגעגאַנגען. איך האָב נאָך אין אײן אָטעם באַװיזן צום דאָקטער צו שרײַען און בעטן, ער זאָל מיט מיר מאַכן אַ סוף, איך װעל אים אַלץ אַװעקשענקען. אָבער ער האָט געמיטלעך און געדולדיק געװאַרט. רי מאַמע אין געלאָפֿן אײַנרײַסן* אין אַלע שולן און די מומע, סימע בערגלאָס, װאָס דער טאַטע אײַערער האָט גערופֿן, איז געשטאַנען לעבן בעט און תּפֿילה געטון. זי האָט געהאַלטן די אױגן פֿאַרגלײזט, געשטרעקט בײדע הענט אין דער הױך צו גאָט און אים געבעטן און געזיפֿצט. איך האָב זי באַטראַכט װי אַ הײליקע. אָבער געהאָלפֿן האָבן די קלעשטשעס. דאָך האָט די מומע בערגלאַס דעמאָלט בײַ מיר נושא־חן געװען.
I GIVE BIRTH TO MY FIRST SON — MOYSHE
I recall how I went into labor with my first child, my son Moyshe. It began right after Shabes was over and the pains were not yet that great, so I was not afraid and I thought to myself, that, after all, all women give birth to children so I would also give birth, but with pain. I would give birth alone, without the help of a doctor. Unfortunately the pains kept up until Wednesday night and because I suffered so I got out of bed every minute, and ran around with my long thick blonde hair unbraided, like a crazy women. This was at my parents’ house and the old midwife Sheyndl herself had said to send for Doctor Rays. By that time I was already hoarse from yelling. On top of that it was a hot September day and my strength was failing. I managed in one breath to yell to the doctor and to beg him to put an end to me, and I would give him everything. But he pleasantly and patiently waited. My mother ran to all the synagogues to pray fervently at the holy ark in order to ward off danger and my aunt, Sime Berglas, whom your father had called, stood near the bed and prayed. Eyes glazed, she stretched both her arms up high to God and prayed to him and sighed. I considered her a holy woman. But what really helped were the forceps. Even so I really liked Aunt Berglas then.
Tr. Sheva Zucker
ikh gey tsu kind mit dem ershtn zun — Moyshe fun In di lange vinternekht, hinde bergner
ikh dermon mikh vi ikh bin gegangen tsu kind mit dem ershtn zun Moyshe. ongehoybn hot zikh es in same shabes|-tsu nakht un di veyen zenen nokh nisht geven azoy groys, hob ikh mikh nisht geshrokn
un getrakht bay zikh, az ale froyen hobn dokh kinder, vel ikh oykh hobn, khotsh mit yesurem. ikh vel aleyn, on dem dokters hilf gevinen. layder hobn di veyen ongehaltn biz mitvokh far nakht un ikh bin far yesurem ale rege aroys fun bet, arumgelofn mit di lange gedikhte blonde hor tseflokhtn, vi a meshugene. dos iz geven bay mayne eltern in shtub un di alte babe sheyndl hot shoyn aleyn geheysn shikn nokh dem dokter rays. demolt bin ikh shoyn geven heyzerik fun shrayen. dertsu iz dos nokh geven in a heysn september-tog un di koykhes zenen mir shoyn oysgegangen. ikh hob nokh in eyn otem bavizn tsum dokter tsu shrayen un betn, er zol mit mir makhn a suf, ikh vel im alts avekshenken. ober er hot gemitlekh un geduldik gevart. ri mame in gelofn aynraysn* in ale shuln un di mume, sime berglos, vos der tate ayerer hot gerufn, iz geshtanen lebn bet un tfile getun. zi hot gehaltn di oygn fargleyzt, geshtrekt beyde hent in der hoykh tsu got un im gebetn un geziftst. ikh hob zi batrakht vi a heylike. ober geholfn hobn di kleshtshes. dokh hot di mume berglas demolt bay mir noyse-kheyn geven.
Kadye Molodovski: Otvotsk II
This poem draws on verses from both Tazria and M’tsora and the text will be presented in M’tsore. Tazria
13: 3And the priest shall look upon the plague in the skin of the flesh; and if the hair in the plague be turned white, and the appearance of the plague be deeper than the skin of his flesh, it is the plague of leprosy; and the priest shall look on him, and pronounce him unclean. 4And if the bright spot be white in the skin of his flesh, and the appearance thereof be not deeper than the skin, and the hair thereof be not turned white, then the priest shall shut up him that hath the plague seven days. 5And the priest shall look on him the seventh day; and, behold, if the plague stay in its appearance, and the plague be not spread in the skin, then the priest shall shut him up seven days more.
For a biography of Sholem Asch in English ,go to Week 22. 
For a biography of Sholem Aleichem in Yiddish and English see Week 3. 
For a biography of Rokhl Korn in English and Yiddish see Week 4.
For a biography of Alexander Spiegelblatt in both English and Yiddish go to Week 1.
For a biography of Chaim Grade in both English and Yiddish see Week 18.
