Bread and Roses
Judy CollinsOriginale | Yiddish Brivele's version |
BREAD AND ROSES As we come marching, marching in the beauty of the day, A million darkened kitchens, a thousand mill lofts gray, Are touched with all the radiance that a sudden sun discloses, For the people hear us singing: "Bread and roses! Bread and roses!" As we come marching, marching, we battle too for men, For they are women's children, and we mother them again. Our lives shall not be sweated from birth until life closes; Hearts starve as well as bodies; give us bread, but give us roses! As we come marching, marching, unnumbered women dead Go crying through our singing their ancient cry for bread. Small art and love and beauty their drudging spirits knew. Yes, it is bread we fight for -- but we fight for roses, too! As we come marching, marching, we bring the greater days. The rising of the women means the rising of the race. No more the drudge and idler -- ten that toil where one reposes, But a sharing of life's glories: Bread and roses! Bread and roses! | BREAD AND ROSES Ven mir kumen on marshirn In a sheynem heln tog Kikhn tunkele milyonen A toyznt shaps oyf shtok Baputst vern mit shtraln Ven di zun’s aroys-geshprungen Vayl di mentshn hern zingen “Broyt un royzn, broyt un blumen” Ven mir kumen on marshirn Far mener oykh kemft men Vayl froyens zin un brider Mames zaynen mir geven S’vet fun undz keyn shveys nit rinen Fun geburt biz ende lebn Hertzer hungern, oykh kerper: Git undz broyt, un git undz blumen Ven mir geyen marshirn Brengen mir besere teg Vayl vos shtarker mir di froyen Vert alts shtarker oykh di velt On shklaferay, on leydik geyers Arbetn tsen, genist nor eyner Teylt zikh mit dem guts fun lebn Broyt un royzn! Broyt un blumen! |