ישׂראליק
Leyb Rozental [Leib Rosenthal] / לײב ראָזענטאַלTraduzione inglese trovata ” Life in the Ghetto - The Personal... | |
YISROLIK | MY NAME IS YISROLIK |
Nu koyft-zhe papirosn, nu koyft-zhe sakharin Gevorn iz hant s'khoyre bilig vert: A lebn far a groshn, a prute - a fardinst --- Fun geto-hendler, hot ir dokh gehert | Hey, come and buy tobacco, Come buy my saccharin, These days the stuff is selling cheap as dirt. A life for just a penny, One cent is what I earn -- About the ghetto peddler you have heard? |
Kh'kheys Yisrolik, ich bin dos kid fun geto kh'kheys Yisrolik, a hefkerdiker yung Khotsh farlibn gole neto Derlang ikh alts nokh a sviftsh un a zung! | My name is Yisrolik, A kid right from the ghetto, My name is Yisrolik, A reckless kind of guy. Though I'm left with less nothing, Still a whistle and song is my reply! |
A mantl on a kragn, takhtoynim fun a zak Kaloshn hob ikh, s'feln nor di shikh Un ver es vet nor vagn tsu lachn oy, a sakh Dem vel ich nokh vayzen ver bin ikh | A coat without a collar, Underwear made from a sack, I have galoshes -- haven't got the shoes. Whoever finds this funny, Whoever dares to laugh -- I'll show him I'm not one to abuse! |
Kh'kheys Yisrolik, ich bin dos kid fun geto Kh'kheys Yisrolik, a hefkerdiker yung Khotsh farlibn gole neto Der lang ich altst nokh a sviftsh un a zung! | My name is Yisrolik, A kid right from the ghetto, My name is Yisrolik, A reckless kind of guy. Though I'm left with less nothing, Still a whistle and song is my reply! |
Nit meint mikh hot geborn di hefkerdike gas Bay tate-mame oych geven a kind Kh'hob beydn on gevoyrn, nit mayntes iz a shpas Kh'bin geblibn vi in feld der vint | Don't think the gutter spawned me, Don't think I have no claim -- A mother and a father loved me too. Both were taken from me, It's useless to complain, But like the wind I'm lonely, it is true. |
Kh'kheys Yisrolik, nor ven keyner zet nit Vish ich shtil zikh fun oyg arop a trer Nor vun maynt troyer- baser oz men redt nit Tsu vos dermanen un makhn s'harts zikh shver? | My name is Yisrolik, And when no one is looking, From my eyes I wipe away a tear. But this anguish -- Is not for speaking. Why remember, How much can one heart bear? |