Ay-yay-yay

Shpitsn berg farshlofn In der fintstrer nakht; Moln frish-batoyte Otemen banakht. S'shtoybn nit di vegn, S'roysht nit mer der vald; Vart a vayle - ‘st oykhet Opruen zikh bald. The mountain tops have gone to sleep In the dark night quiet valleys are full of fresh mist No dust comes from the pathways No noises from the forest Wait a little and your time to rest will come

S'hot haynt fun feld a frisher vint Oyf heyse gasn zikh farklibn Un nit gevust vu ayn, vu oys Un shtil geblibn. Fun tunklen hoys bin ikh aroys Dem vint antkegn ongekumen – Un s’hot der vint mikh shtil un lind Arumgenumen. Ikh hob tsekusht zikh mitn vint Un on a vort gevor gevorn Vos tut oyf felder zikh atsind – Dort blit shoyn korn. Es vet mir klingen haynt biz nakht Der shtiler shal fun vaytn horn Es blit shoyn korn. Today from the field a fresh wind ascended onto hot streets And didn’t know where was “in” and where was “out” And calmly rested I left a dull house, I came towards the wind, And the wind quietly and gently embraced me We kissed each other, the wind and I and without exchanging a word, we spoke “What is happening in the fields now?” “The rye is blossoming already” It will ring in me today until night The quiet sound of a distant horn, The rye is blossoming already.

Di tayvedike fel fun guf aropgeshtelt; Vos tut mayn reyne zel? Zi tseylt, zi tseylt. Tsvey mol tsvey iz - fir, Ikh mol ikh iz - du, Du mol du iz - mir, Toyt mol toyt iz - ru. In Mizrekh zayt mayn kop, Di fis in Mayrev zayt; Yog gikher, shtey nisht op,- Noent mol noent iz - vayt. Tsvey mol tsvey iz - fir, Ikh mol ikh iz - du, Du mol du iz - mir, Toyt mol toyt iz - ru. Shorkh baym tir. - stuk, stuk. - S'iz ofn, kum arayn. - Loykht oyf in letstn kuk, - Toyt mol toyt iz - zayn. My body’s passionate hide Falls away. What does my pure soul do? It counts, it counts Two times two is – four. I times I is – you, You times you is – me Death times death is - rest. In the east is my head And my feet are in the west Hurry up, don’t get lost Near times near is - far Scratching at the door, - knock knock - It’s open, come in, kindle your last look death times death is - being

Zol zayn di trern di heyse gebentsht – A mentsh zol zayn a mentsh. Nor mayne oygn a trukener dno. Keyn eyntsike trer iz nito. Zol zayn dos lakhn, dos gezunte gebentsht – A mentsh zol zayn a mentsh. Hot ober getrofn mit mir aza zakh, Az nit ikh veyn un nit ikh lakh. Let hot tears be blessed a man must be a man but my eyes are dry top to bottom there is not a single tear left Let there be healthy laughter a man must be a man but to me such a thing has happened that I don’t cry and I don’t laugh

Iz der heyliker Balshemtov in feld arumgegangen, Baginen in feld in kaltn gegangen. Es hobn fun tsofn geblozn di vintn, Kalt un frostik hobn geblozn di vintn, Az es hobn genumen im frirn di glider; Un s'hot mit farfrorene glider, Der heyliker Balshemtov geefnt di leftsn Un hot oyfn kol zikh tsezungen. Azoy hobn zayne geefnte leftsn Gezungen, gezungen, gezungen: "Az voyl iz tsu dem, vos hot zoykhe geven Dayn vint zol amol im barirn, Az voyl iz tsu mir, vos kh'hob zoykhe geven Fun keltn fun dayne tsu frirn; Az voyl iz tsu mir un az voyl iz un voyl, Az voyl iz un voyl iz un voyl." Un durshtik di frostike luft alts getrunken Un vider in tife makhshoves farzunken. Un bislekhvayz iz in himl aroys A zun azoy flamik un groys, Az vi in gehenem gevorn iz heys, Fun ponim gerunen hot tropnvayz shveys Un s'hot in brenendn feld Keyn vintl tsumol nit geveyt. Nor plutsem zikh hot durkhn brenendn feld Dos kol fun Balshemtov tseshpreyt; Dos hot der Balshemtov gezungen, A loyb dem bashefer gezungen: "Far keltn un hitsn, far zun un far regn, Far tog un far nakht, dir a loyb! Far alz, vos du shikst dem mentshn antkegn, A loyb dir, a loyb dir, a loyb! Un voyl iz tsu mir, vos ikh ver itst farbrent, Fun fayern dayne farbrent. Un oyb ikh bin zoykhe, un du host bashert Tsu faln fun durshtikayt itst oyf dayn erd, Vi voyl iz tsu mir un vi voyl iz un voyl Un voyl iz un voyl iz un voyl." The Holy Balshemtov went into the field And started walking through the field And from the North the wind started blowing Cold and frosty winds were blowing So the wind froze his limbs And with his limbs frozen The Holy Balshemtov opened his lips And sang out loud this is what his open lips were singing, singing, singing: “how blessed is the one who is lucky to be touched by your wind, how blessed am I that I was favoured to freeze in your cold Blessed am I, and how blessed I am, and how blessed and blessed and blessed” And thirstily the frosty air he drank, and further in deep contemplation sank. And gradually in the sky rose the big flaming Sun And it became Hellishly hot And from his face streams of sweat ran down And in the burning field not even a breeze blew But suddenly through the burning field the voice of the Balshemtov spread Thus the Balshemtov was singing, praising the Creator singing; “for cold and heat for sun and for rain, for day and for night, may you be praised. For everything that you send to us, praised be you, praised be you, praised be you, and how am I blessed that I will now burn from your fire, I will burn. And also I have been favoured and you have chosen for me to fall from thirst on your earth, how blessed I am, and how blessed and blessed and blessed.”

Tsvey mentshn, vos voynen a tir lem a tir; Tsvey shkheynim, tsvey bokherim hoykhe, - A meydldiks eyns un a brie a bleykhe (In mir, in mir, in mir). Tsvey mentshn, vos voynen a tir lem a tir. Ikh shlof. Plutsling chukhn zikh emetsns hent ... (Az eyner geyt shlofn shteyt oyfet der tsveyter) Er viklt funander a shotndik leyter Un krikht oyf di vent, oyf di vent, oyf di vent. Ikh shlof. Plutsling chukhn zikh emetsns hent. Un a mol, ven men zitst bay a glezele vayn (Es treft, oy, es treft, alevay zol nit trefn), Dos mentshele tut dan a tirl un efn un shpayt in a ponem arayn... O, a mol ven men zitst bay a glezele vayn. Tsvey mentshn, vos voynen a tir lem a tir; Tsvey shkheynim, tsvey bokherim hoykhe,- A teydldiks eyns un a brie a bleykhe (In mir, in mir, in mir). Tsvey mentshn, vos voynen a tir lem a tir. Two people live next door to each other Two neighbours two tall young men One is full of life and the other pale, (In me, in me, in me). Two people live next door to each other I sleep, suddenly I feel someone’s hand (When one sleeps the other awakens). He comes out from beneath a dark ladder And climbs up the wall, up the wall, up the wall I sleep, suddenly I feel someone’s hand Sometimes I sit with a glass of wine (It happens, it happens and I wish it didn’t). The small one opens a door And spits in my face Sometimes I sit with a glass of wine Two people live next door to each other Two neighbours two tall young men One is like a girl and the other pale, (In me, in me, in me). Two people live next door to each other

Impulsn fun gedank Blitsike un rashik, Blyask fun zun af meser-sharf. Plutsem: Kheyder-yorn un a vort, Mer nisht vi a vort: Tirlt-toybn. Un s'lozt nit op, Mit dem veykhn kneytsh fun tirtl, Mit dem lashthendikn kneytsh. O, tirtl-toybn Tirtl-toybn Tirtl-tirtl Tirtl-toybn. Kheyder-yorn, kinder-yorn, Un es zingt. Un farfolgt. Un farvigt. Un dermont: Tirtl-toybn Tirtl-tirtl Tirtl-toybn. Impulses of memory: Lightning, noise Gleam of the Sun on a knife’s blade. Suddenly: Kheyder* years and a word, No more than a word: Turtledoves. And it won’t stop, With the soft fold of tirtl With the fondling fold. Oh tirtl toybn Tirtl toybn Tirtl tirtl Tirtl toybn. Kheyder years, childhood years. And it sings. And it haunts. And it cradles. And reminds: Tirtl toybn Tirtl tirtl Tirtl toybn. * in Yiddish kheyder - religious school

Entele, Entele, Entele. Farvos geystu nisht grad? Un dos Entl, Entl zogt: Vayl ikh bin nisht keyn soldat! Kh’bin an Entl, kh’bin an Entel, Un gey mir vi di bobe Yentl Aher - ahin gevaklt zikh In di sheyne royte shikh! Little Duck, Entele, Entele, Why are you walking askance? And the little duck says “Because I am not a soldier I’m a little duck, a little duck and I walk like grandma Yentl, There and back, I rock side to side, In beautiful red shoes”.

Kum zay mir a mame. Dertseylt hot mayn mame A maysele fun a papirener brik - Dertseyl es mir oykh. Un dertseyl fun di feygl, Vos kumen in zumer-tsayt vider tsurik. Fartrayb fun mayn bet di khaloymes di viste, Vos kumen tsu mir ale nekht, ale nekht. Dertseyl fun malokhim, vos zenen gekumen Un hobn mir goldene shtern gebrakht. Un klingt men in kloyster - farhalt mir di oyern, Farhalt zey, un zog, az der shtot-zeyger klingt. Un veynt in di lodn der vint, zolstu zogn - Es zitst bay a seyfer der tate un zingt... Dertseyl, az s'iz varemer zumer in droysn, Un zingendik geyen di goyim fun feld. Dertseyl - efsher vet dos mayn kuter farshtiln - Un likhtiker, likhtiker makhn mayn velt. Come be a mother for me. My mother told me A tale about a paper bridge – Tell me about it too. And tell me about birds That during the summer come back from far away. Vanquish my empty dreams from my bed, That come to me every night, every night. Tell me about angels that will come And bring me a golden star. And bells are ringing – cover my ears, Cover them and say that it’s the town clock ringing. And the wind behind the windows is blowing, you should say – It is my father sitting with a sefer and singing… Tell me that there will be a warm summer coming soon and singing come the goyim* from the field Tell me – maybe my yearning will quieten And lighten, lighten my world. * in Yiddish/Hebrew goyim - non Jews

Du host mir tsugezogt, Vest mikh nemen in a zumer tog. Oy, du host mir tsugezogt az du Vest mikh nemen in a zumer tog. Oy, a bokher vil mikh nisht, Un a belhabikhel darf ikh nisht; Oy, a shnayder vil mikh nisht, Un a shuster darf ikh nisht. Der zumer tog iz shoyn gekumen, Un du host mikh nisht genumen. Oy, a bokher vil mikh nisht… You promised me that you will marry me on a summer’s day , The summer’s day has come and you haven’t married me Oy! a boy doesn’t want me and I shouldn’t have a religious bookworm Oy! a tailor doesn’t want me and I shouldn’t have a shoemaker.

Gis mir on, mayn tayere, a bekherl mit vayn, Lekhaim vel ikh trinken, gezunt zolstu mir zayn. Gehert hob ikh dertseyln, az in vayn in altn, Hot aleyn der zeydenyu a nigndl bahaltn. Gis mir on, mayn tayere, a kalishek mit yayn, Far ale mayne libe vel ikh oystrinken lekhaim. Kh’hob gehert dertseyln, s’iz mestam keyn lign, Az in der tsveyter koyse ligt dem zeydens nign. Gis mir on, mayn tayere, dem same bestn yayn. Lomir take far dem nign oystrinken lekhaim. Kener zogn, kener vayzn, dortn muz er lign, Afn dno fun driter koyse der nign-shebenign. Pour for me, my dear, a glass of wine We’ll drink “to life” so we’ll be healthy I heard a tale that in old wine An old man hid a tune dai dai dai …. Pour for me, my dear a chalice of wine For all my loved ones, we’ll drink‘”to life” I heard a tale, and this is no untruth, that in the bottom of the second glass Lies the old man’s tune dai dai dai …. Pour for me, my dear the very best wine So let’s for the tune drink “to life” Those who know, say, those who know, see There it must lie, on the bottom of the third glass, the old man’s tune dai dai dai ….

- Vos vilstu, vos vilstu? A shnayder far a man? - A shnayder far a man vil ikh nisht, Keyn shnayders tokhter bin ikh nisht. Zits ikh mir afn shteyn Un kuk arop un veyn: Ale meydlekh hobn khassene Un ikh blayb aleyn - A shuster…? - A klezmer…? - A klezmer far a man vil ikh yo Az klezmers tokhter bin ikh yo. Zits ikh mir afn shteyn Kuk arop un lakh: Ale meydlekh hobn khassene Un ikh mit zey glaykh! What do you want? A tailor for a husband? I don’t want a tailor for a husband Because I’m not a tailor’s daughter I sit on a stone, look down and cry All young girls have a fiancé And I am all alone What do you want? A shoemaker for a husband? I sit on a stone… What do you want? A klezmer for a husband? Yes I want a klezmer for my husband Because I’m a klezmer’s daughter! I sit on a stone, look down and laugh All girls have a fiancé And I am just like them!

Oyf yener zayt taykh iz di zun shoyn fargangn, Oyf yener zayt taykh iz a meydl gegangn Mit benkshaft in harts un trern in blik Tsu zukhn ir meydlshe glik. Un blimelekh bloinke zibn mol zibn Hot zi bay dem shayn fun levone geklibn Un hot mitn shtrom zay gelozn in taykh: "Shvimt glaykh, mayne blimelekh, glaykh" "Shvimt glaykh, vayt ahin, vu di vaserlekh rinen, Mestame mayn glik vet ir dort gefinen, Un az ir vet dortn gefinen mayn glik - Shvimt, blimelekh, gikher, tsurik!" Di nakht hot dem taykh mit a nepl fartsoygn. Baym taykh iz dos meydl geshtanen geboygn Un hot in di vaserlekh lang, lang gekukt Un shver mit di akslen getsukt... Di vaserlekh zaynen gerunen, gerunen... Di blimelekh hobn dort gornisht gefunen, Keyn blimele iz nit gekumen tsurik. Veyn, meydl, du host nisht keyn glik! On the other side of the river the Sun is going down On the other side of the river a young girl is walking With longing in her a heart and tears in her gaze She’s searching for her maiden’s good fortune And flowers blue 7 x 7 She gathered in the moonlight And then released them into the current of the river “Swim along my little flowers, swim” “Swim along, as far as the waters flow Maybe you will find my fortune there And if you will find my fortune there – Swim back soon flowers! “ The night has drawn a fog over the river On the banks the girl remained standing still And looking long into the waters Strongly arched her shoulders back… The waters were flowing and flowing… The flowers didn’t find anything there No flower came back Cry young girl, you will have no good fortune