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גוטער זכרון

Chava Alberstein / חוה אלברשטיין
Language: Yiddish


Chava Alberstein / חוה אלברשטיין

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Guter zikorn
[2006]
פּאָעזיע / Poesia / A Poem by / Poésie/ شعر / Runo:
Binem Heller / בינם העלער
מוזיק/ Musica / Music / Musique / موسيقى / Sävel:
Chava Alberstein / חוה אלברשטיין
פּערפאָרמער/ Interpreti / Performed by / Interprétée par / مترجمين / Laulavat:
Chava Alberstein / חוה אלברשטיין
אלבאם / Album :
Lemele / לעמעלע

Chava


Lemele (pecora) è il 58° album di Chava Alberstein pubblicato nel 2006. Guter Zikorn è la traccia #1.
Binem Heller è stato un poeta, letterato e saggista che ha lasciato numerose opere. Segue la sua biografia

binemhellerBinem Heller (January 25, 1908- May 12, 1998)

He was born in Warsaw, Poland, into a poor Hassidic family. He studied in religious elementary school and yeshiva. At age fourteen he became a glove-maker, and later he joined the Communist cause and thus had to leave Poland. From 1937 to May 1939, he lived in Belgium and Paris, later returning to Warsaw. In September 1939 with the German seizure of Poland, he escaped to Bialystok and lived there until June 1941, later living in Alma-Ata and Moscow. In the summer of 1947 he returned to Poland and became an active leader in the literary and artistic divisions of the Central Cultural Union of Jews in Poland, as well as an active player in the Jewish Writers’ Union. He moved to the state of Israel in 1956 and did not return to Poland thereafter. He lived in Paris and Brussels, where he wrote his poem of regret, “Akh, hot men mir mayn lebn tsebrokhn” (Oh, how they’ve destroyed my life), which aroused a heated discussion about Communist penitents. From February 1957 he had settled in Israel.

He debuted in print in Literarishe tribune (Literary tribune) in Lodz (1930), where he and M. Shulshteyn allied with the leaders of the Jewish proletarian writers group in Poland. He contributed thereafter to both legal and illegal Yiddish Communist periodicals. His writings appeared in: Literarishe bleter (Literary leaves), Foroys (Onward), Naye folkstsaytung (New people’s newspaper), and Der fraynd (The friend), among others, all in Warsaw;
Di naye prese (The new press), Parizer tsaytshrift (Parisian periodical), Arbeter-vort (Word of laborers), and Unzer vort (Our word),in Paris;
Byalistoker shtern (Bialystok star); Oktyaber (October) and Der shtern (The star) in Minsk; Eynikeyt (Unity), Heymland (Homeland), Sovetish (Soviet), and Tsum zig (To the goal),in Moscow;
Dos naye lebn (The new life), Folksshtime (People’s voice), and Yidishe shriftn (Jewish writings) in postwar Warsaw;
Frayhayt (Freedom), Yidishe kultur (Jewish culture), Naye veg (New way), and Eynikeyt (Unity),in New York; Letste nayes (Latest news), Al hamishmar (On guard), Lemerḥav (Into the open), Nayvelt (New world), Yisroel-shtime (Voice of Israel), Folk un tsien (People and Zion), and Heymish (Familiar), among others, in Israel.
He also published in a variety of newspapers and periodicals in Argentina, Uruguay, Brazil, and other countries.

Aside from poetry, he published articles and translations. His published books include:
Durkh krates (Through bars), poetry (Warsaw, 1930), 64 pp., which was confiscated at the time by the Polish authorities; In umru fun teg (In apprehension of days), revolutionary poetry (Warsaw, 1932); Afn vint, poeme (Into the wind, a poem), lyrical poetry about workers’ love (Warsaw, 1936); Lider (Poems) (Minsk, 1940); Di erd hot getsitert, lider (The earth shook, poetry), poems about the war (Moscow, 1947); Der veg af varshe (The way to Warsaw), a poem about Jewish refugees during WWII (Moscow, 1948); Durkh shotn un shayn (Through shadows and light), also including his poem “Varshe 1939” (Warsaw 1939); Friling in poyln, lider (Springtime in Poland, poems) (Warsaw, 1950); Heymerd, lider (Motherland, poems) (Warsaw, 1951); In unzer tsayt, lider (In our time, poems) (Warsaw, 1954; Dos ershte lid (The first poem), a collection of poems written over the years 1932-1939, with an introduction by Dovid Sfard entitled “Di fraye lider fun binem heler” (The early poetry of Binem Heler) (Warsaw, 1956); Klorkeyt (Clarity) (Warsaw, 1957); Naye lider (New poems) (Tel Aviv: Peretz Publ., 1964); Dor un doyer (Generation and duration) (Tel Aviv: Hamenorah, 1967); A boym in ovnt (A tree in the evening) (Tel Aviv: Peretz Publ., 1971); In varshever geto in khoydesh nisn (In the Warsaw Ghetto in the month of Nissan) (Tel Aviv: Peretz Publ., 1973); Bikhides (In private) (Tel Aviv: Peretz Publ., 1975); Dos tsugezogte vort (The promised word) (Tel Aviv: Peretz Publ., 1980); Zey veln oyfshteyn, lider (They will rise up, poetry) (Tel Aviv: Peretz Publ., 1984). His book of poems, Baym rand (By the edge) (Jerusalem: Kriyat sefer, 1957), includes poetry from after he left Poland in 1956, as well as a cycle of poems on themes involving Israel.

He was co-editor of illegal literary publications between the world wars in Poland, editor of the literary section of Byalistoker shtern (Bialystok star, 1939-1941), editor of the magazine Der shtern in Minsk in 1940-1941 (following the arrest of its previous editors, Akselrod and Kogan), co-editor of Dos naye lebn and Yidish shriftn in postwar Poland, and editor of the anthology Dos lid iz geblibn, lider fun yidishe dikhter in poyln, umgekumene beys der hitlerisher okupatsye, antologye (The poem remains, poems by Jewish poets in Poland, murdered during the Hitler occupation, anthology) (Warsaw, 1951), which include poems by thirty-six Polish Yiddish poets, who were killed during the German occupation.

He also authored the drama A shtub in geto (A home in the ghetto), staged by the Yiddish theater of Poland, 1952-1953. His work also appeared in Lebn un kamf (Life and struggle) (Minsk, 1936) and Tsum zig (To victory) (Moscow, 1944). [He was the Yiddish translator of The Black Book of Soviet Jewry: Dos shvartse bukh (Jersualem: Yad vashem, 1984)].

From Yleksikon Blog
[1] גוטער זכּרון

אַ מאָל איז דער זכּרון אױך אַ גוטער
און אַז מען בעט בײ אים אַ טובה טוט ער
ער ברענגט אַ מאָל צוריק אזש ביז דער ראיה
אַ בלימל פֿון דער קינדהײט אינעם בליזן

און דעמאַלט װאַכט אױך אױף גער חוש הריח
און צו דעם עבר מיט אַ שפּרונג דערגײ איך
און דעמאַלט װאַכט אױך אױף גער חוש הריח
און צו דעם עבר מיט אַ שפּרונג דערגײ איך

אַ מאָל איז דער זכּרון אױך אַ גוטער
און אַז מען בעט בײ אים אַ טובה טוט ער
ער ברענגט אַ מאָל צוריק אזש ביז דער ראיה
אַ בלימל פֿין דער קינדהײט אינעם בליזן

און דעמאַלט װאַכט אױך אױף גער חוש הריח
און צו דעם עבר מיט אַ שפּרונג דערגײ איך
און דעמאַלט װאַכט אױך אױף גער חוש הריח
און צו דעם עבר מיט אַ שפּרונג דערגײ איך

די מאמע רײסט די האָר מיר מיטן קעמל
מיט פּוטער שמירט זי אן א װיסן זעמל
זי טוט מיר אן די קינדערושע קלײדער
און פֿירט מיר אפּ צום רבין אינעם חדר
זי טוט מיר אן די קינדערושע קלײדער
און פֿירט מיר אפּ צום רבין אינעם חדר

איך װיל נישט גײן און חדר כ'בין א װײנער
דער רבי האָט א מױל מיט געלע צײנער
דער רבי האָט א גרױסן שװאַרצן סידור
און דאָרט איז מיר דער אלף־בית דערװידער

נאָר װען עס טריקענען זיך אױס די טרערן
צעשײנען זיך אותיות װי די שטערן
באהעפֿטן זײער ליכט אין גאנצע װערטער
און שטעלן זיך אױף װוּנדערלעכע ערטער

נאָר װען עס טריקענען זיך אױס די טרערן
צעשײנען זיך אותיות װי די שטערן
באהעפֿטן זײער ליכט אין גאנצע װערטער
און שטעלן זיך אױף װוּנדערלעכע ערטער
און לײכטן אפּ פֿין גרױסן סידור
אױף יאָרן שפּעטער ביז אין מײנע לידער

אַ מאָל איז דער זכּרון אױך אַ גוטער
און אַז בעט בײ אים אַ טובה טוט ער
ער ברענגט אַ מאָל צוריק אזש ביז דער ראיה
אַ בלימל פֿין דער קינדהײט אינעם בליזן
Translitterazione
Transcription

[1] GUTER ZIKORN

A mol iz der zikorn oykh a guter,
Un az me bet bay im a toyve - tut er.
Er brengt a mol tsurik azsh biz der riye
A bliml fun der kindheyt inem blien.

Un demalt vakht oykh oyf der khush-hareyakh
Un tsu dem ever mit a shprung dergey ikh.
Un demalt vakht oykh oyf der khush-hareyakh
Un tsu dem ever mit a shprung dergey ikh.

A mol iz der zikorn oykh a guter,
Un az me bet bay im a toyve - tut er.
Er brengt a mol tsurik azsh biz der riye
A bliml fun der kindheyt inem blien.

Un demalt vakht oykh oyf der khush-hareyakh
Un tsu dem ever mit a shprung dergey ikh.
Un demalt vakht oykh oyf der khush-hareyakh
Un tsu dem ever mit a shprung dergey ikh.

Di mame rayst di hor mir mitn keml,
Mit puter shmirt zi on a vaysn zeml.
Zi tut mir on di kinderishe kleyder
Un firt mir op tsum rebin inem kheder.
Zi tut mir on di kinderishe kleyder
Un firt mir op tsum rebin inem kheder.

Ikh vil nisht geyn in kheder, kh'bin a veyner,
Der rebe hot a moyl mit gele tseyner,
Der rebe hot a groysn shvartsn sider,
Un dort iz mir der alef-beys dervider.

Nor ven es trikenen zikh oys di trern,
Tseshaynen zikh di oysies vi di shtern,
Baheftn zeyer likht in gantse verter
Un shteln zikh oyf vunderlekhe erter.

Nor ven es trikenen zikh oys di trern,
Tseshaynen zikh di oysies vi di shtern,
Baheftn zeyer likht in gantse verter
Un shteln zikh oyf vunderlekhe erter.
Un laykhtn op fun groysn shvartsn sider
Oyf yorn shpeter - biz in mayne lider.

A mol iz der zikorn oykh a guter,
Un az me bet bay im a toyve - tut er.
Er brengt a mol tsurik azsh biz der riye
A bliml fun der kindheyt inem blien

Contributed by Riccardo Gullotta - 2019/9/11 - 00:10




Language: English

ענגליש איבערזעצונג / English translation / Traduzione inglese / Traduction anglaise / الترجمة الإنجليزية /Englanninkielinen käännös:
Hebrew Songs
GOOD MEMORY

There are times when memory is a nice guy, too.
Ask him a favor and he'll do it for you.
He can sometimes recall to your very sight
A childhood flower, all blooming and bright,

Which then rouses the sense of smell from its sleep
And I return to the past in one great leap.
Which then rouses the sense of smell from its sleep
And I return to the past in one great leap

There are times when memory is a nice guy, too.
Ask him a favor and he'll do it for you.
He can sometimes recall to your very sight
A childhood flower, all blooming and bright,

Which then rouses the sense of smell from its sleep
And I return to the past in one great leap.
Which then rouses the sense of smell from its sleep
And I return to the past in one great leap

My mother is running a comb through my hair;
She smears a white roll, the butter's right there.
She dresses me up in my little boy's clothes
And to the rebbe in kheyder away we go.
She dresses me up in my little boy's clothes
And to the rebbe in kheyder away we go.

I don't want to go to kheyder, I screech,
The rebbe has a mouth full of yellow teeth.
The rebbe's black prayer book is big and thick,
And the alef-beys inside - it makes me sick.

But once the tears have dried from my whining
The letters, like stars, begin their shining.
They unite their lights in full words with no spaces
And put themselves in unbelievable places.
And shine out from the big black prayer book tomes
For years thereafter, all the way to my poems.

There are times when memory is a nice guy, too.
Ask him a favor and he'll do it for you.
He can sometimes recall to your very sight
A childhood flower, all blooming and bright.

Contributed by Riccardo Gullotta - 2019/9/11 - 00:12




Language: Italian

איטאַליעניש איבערזעצונג / Traduzione italiana/ Italian translation / Traduction italienne / الترجمة الإيطالية / Italiankielinen käännös:
Riccardo Gullotta
BUONA MEMORIA

Ci sono momenti in cui anche la memoria è una brava ragazza,
chiedile un favore e te lo farà.
A volte è capace di farti rivedere
un fiore della tua infanzia, in pieno sboccio e radioso.

Ridesta quindi i tuoi sensi assopiti…
Ecco, ritorno al passato con un gran balzo.
Ridesta quindi i tuoi sensi assopiti…
Ecco, ritorno al passato con un gran balzo.

Ci sono momenti in cui anche la memoria è una brava ragazza,
chiedile un favore e te lo farà.
A volte è capace di farti rivedere
un fiore della tua infanzia, in pieno sboccio e radioso.

Ridesta quindi i tuoi sensi assopiti…
Ecco, ritorno al passato con un gran balzo.
Ridestando quindi i tuoi sensi assopiti
Ecco, ritorno al passato con un gran balzo.

Mia madre mi passa un pettine tra i capelli,
spalma un panetto bianco, il burro è proprio lì.
Mi veste con i vestiti da bambino
e andiamo dritti a scuola dal rabbino.
Mi veste con i vestiti da bambino
e andiamo dritti a scuola dal rabbino.

Non voglio andare a scuola, strillo,
Il rabbino ha una bocca tutta di denti gialli.
Il libro nero delle preghiere del rabbino è grande e grosso,
e i caratteri dentro - mi fanno sentire male.

Ma dopo che le lacrime del mio piagnisteo mi si sono asciugate
le lettere cominciano a brillare come le stelle.
Le loro luci si fondono in parole intere senza spazi
e si collocano in posti incredibili
e dal librone nero delle preghiere vengono fuori in bella mostra volumi
negli anni avanti fino alle mie poesie.

Ci sono momenti in cui anche la memoria è una brava ragazza,
chiedile un favore e te lo farà.
A volte è capace di farti rivedere
un fiore della tua infanzia, in pieno sboccio e radioso.

Contributed by Riccardo Gullotta - 2019/9/11 - 00:14




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