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Freylekh
Yum bum bum bum, yum bum bum bum, Yuh duh dai di di dum dum (etc.)

Ay ay ay ay di di dum,

Ay ay ay ay di di dum…(etc.)

Joyful!

Tum-balalayke

Tum-bala, tum-bala, tum-balalayke.

Tum-bala, tum-bala, tum-balalayke.

Tum-balalayke, play, balalayke,

Tum-balalayke — Play something merry!

 

There stands a boy, and he ponders;

Ponders and ponders, the whole night through: Whom he should marry and not put to shame, Whom he should marry and not put to shame.

 

Tum-bala, tum-bala, tum-balalayke…(etc.)

 

“Maiden, maiden, I’ll ask you this: What can grow without rain? What can burn without end? What can yearn, cry without tears?”

 

Tum-bala, tum-bala, tum-balalayke…(etc.) “Foolish boy, how can you even ask!

A stone can grow without rain;

Love can burn without end;

A heart can yearn and cry without tears.”

 

Tum-bala, tum-bala, tum-balalayke…(etc.)

Zog, maran

Tell me, Marrano, my brother:

Where have you prepared your seder? “In a chamber in a deep cave,

There I have prepared my seder.”

 

Tell me, Marrano: Where, and from whom,

Will you get your matzahs?

“In the cave, with only heaven to help her, There my wife has kneaded the dough.”

 

Tell me, Marrano: Where will you manage To find a hagadah?

“In the cave, in a deep crevice,

Is where I’ve hidden it for a long time.”

 

Tell me, Marrano: How will you

Protect yourself

When they hear your voice?

 

“If the enemy captures me,

Then I will die with songs on my lips.”

Az der rebe zingt

When the Rabbi sings,

All the Chasidics sing:

Ya la la la la, ya la la la la —

All the Chasidics sing.

 

When the Rabbi dances,

All the Chasidics dance:

Tra ya ya ya ya, tra ya ya ya ya —

All the Chasidics dance.

 

When the Rabbi cries,

All the Chasidics cry:

Oy oy oy oy oy, oy oy oy oy oy —

All the Chasidics cry.

 

When the Rabbi laughs,

All the Chasidics laugh:

Ha ha ha ha ha, ha ha ha ha ha —

All the Chasidics laugh.

 

When the Rabbi whistles,

All the Chasidics whistle:

Pht pht pht pht pht, pht pht pht pht pht — All the Chasidics whistle

Oy, dortn, dortn ibern vaserl

There across the water,

Oh, there across the bridge!

I have been driven into distant lands, And I yearn to be with you again!

 

Oh, help me, dear God, oh God in heaven;

Oh, help me, dear God, I feel so blue!

For three years, we’ve been courting,

And we still cannot fulfill our love.

 

Oh, your eyes, like little black cherries,

Your lips, like pink paper;

And your little fingers, like pen and ink:

Oh, do write me letters often!

Lomir ale freylekh zayn

Let’s all be joyful, let’s all sing,

Sing for peace, sing for bread;

Build a tomorrow without hate

And without want.

May-ko mashma lon

Ay ay ay ay ay ay…

 

What is the meaning of the rain?

What is it trying to teach me?

Its drops roll like gloomy tears

Down the windowpane.

My boot is torn,

And the street is getting muddy;

Soon, too, the winter will come,

And I have no warm coat…

 

What is the meaning of the candle? What is it trying to teach me?

Its tallow drips and drips,

And soon there will be nothing left of it.

So do I, in this synagogue study room, Flicker like a candle weak and dim.

Till finally I go out, in silence,

At the corner of the eastern wall…

Ay ay ay ay ay ay…

 

What is the meaning of the clock?

What is it trying to teach me?

With its yellow dial,

With its ringing, with its swearing?

It’s a mechanical gadget,

Without life, without feelings;

When the hour comes, it must strike, Involuntarily and with no will.

 

What is the meaning of my life?

What is it trying to say to me?

Decaying, withering in my youth, Growing old before my time,

Meals at others’ homes,

Washed down with tears,

Sleeping upon my hard fist,

Killing the pleasures of this world

While waiting for the next.

A nign

Once upon a time, there was a pauper,

He quarreled with no one (except God). Wonders upon wonders would befall him When he sang such a melody:

 

Tshi-ri-bim-bim-bam

Tshi-ri-bi-ri-bim-bam

Tshi-ri-bim-bim-bam,

Oy, tshi-ri-bi-ri-bim-bam,

Tshi-ri-bim, tshi-ri-bim, tshi-ri-bim,

Bim-bim-bam, ba-ba-ba-bam.

 

Wine flowed from the melody,

And he swallowed gulp after gulp.

Wonders upon wonders would befall him When he sang a song like this:

 

Tshi-ri-bim-bim-bam…(etc.)

 

The Jew sings, and sweetness pours forth, And he almost leaps for joy.

Wonders upon wonders would befall him When he sang a song like this:

 

Tshi-ri-bim-bim-bam…(etc.)

Rozhinkes mit mandlen

In The Temple,

In the corner of a room,

Sits Bas-Tsion the widow, alone: Endlessly rocking her son Yidele And sings him to sleep with a sweet lullaby.

Ay lu lu lu…

 

Under Yidele’s cradle

Stands a snow-white little goat.

The goat has traveled to sell his wares. That will be your calling, too,

Trading in raisins and almonds.

Sleep now, Yidele, sleep.

Ay lu lu lu…

S’brent

It’s burning, brothers, it’s burning!

Oh, our poor village is burning horribly!

Angry winds rage,

Tearing, shattering, and exploding;

The wild flames are becoming stronger, And everything is on fire!

And you stand there, looking on,

With your hands folded,

You stand there, looking on;

 

Our village is burning!

It’s burning, brothers, it’s burning!

Oh, our poor village is burning horribly! Tongues of fire have already

Swallowed up the entire village,

And the angry winds howl;

Our village burns!

And you stand there, looking on…(etc.)

 

It’s burning, brothers, it’s burning!

Oh, God forbid, at any moment

Our village, and all of us in it,

Could burn into a billow of ash;

And all that would remain,

As in the aftermath of a massacre,

Would be idle black walls!

And you stand there, looking on…(etc.)

 

It’s burning, brothers, it’s burning!

Help can come only from you;

If your village is dear to you,

Fetch some buckets and put out the fire; Extinguish it with your own blood –

Prove that you can do it!

Don’t just stand there, looking on,

With your hands folded;

Don’t just stand there, put out the fire.

Our village is burning!

S’dremlen feygl oyf di tsvaygn

Birds sit dozing on the branches; Sleep, my precious child.

By your cradle, in your lair,

Sings a stranger by your side.

Lu-lu, lu-lu, lu…

 

Here stands your cradle,

Woven with joy,

And your mother, oh your mother,

Is never coming back.

Lu-lu, lu-lu, lu…

 

I saw your father running

Under a hail of stones;

Across the fields flew

His desolate moaning. Lu-lu, lu-lu, lu…

Zog nit keyn mol

Never say that this

Is the end of the road for you,

Though leaden clouds

May conceal skies of blue;

Because the hour

That we have longed for is near,

Our steps drum out

“We are here!”

 

From the green land of palm trees

To the land of the white snow,

We’re arriving with our pain

And with our sorrow;

And wherever a drop of our blood Should fall,

There springs forth our strength

And our courage.

 

This song is written with blood,

And not with lead;

It’s not a little song

Sung by a bird overhead.

It is the song of a people

Amidst collapsing walls;

It is sung with pistols

In their hands!

Dona, dona, dona

On a wagon there lies a little calf,

Lies bound with a rope;

High in the sky flies a swallow, Joyfully circling back and forth.

 

The wind laughs in the wheatfield, Laughs and laughs and laughs;

It laughs for a whole day,

And half the night.

 

Dona dona dona dona,

Dona dona dona dai;

 

The calf cries, and the farmer says, “Who told you to be a calf?

You could be a bird,

You could be a swallow!”

 

The wind laughs in the wheatfield…(etc.)

 

Dona dona dona dona…(etc.)

 

Poor calves are bound

And dragged to slaughter;

Whoever has wings flies upwards

And is a slave to no one.

 

The wind laughs in the wheatfield…(etc.)

 

Dona dona dona dona…(etc.)

Tayere Malke

My dear Malke, may you be well!

Fill up the goblet with wine.

Yum day di dum ba, yum bay di dai

 

From his goblet,

Which gleams so beautifully,

My grandfather would drink,

My grandfather himself.

There have been bad times,

As sometimes happen;

But he clung to the goblet

Like iron and steel.

 

Yum day di dum ba, yum bay di dai My dear Malke, may you be well!

For whom shall I drink this wine?

We shall drink, and drink without end, To those of us who have departed!

 

Yum day di dum ba…(etc.)

To life

The album is made possible through the generous support of the organizations below: 
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Album Image: Audubon, John James. Barn Swallow. 1833, hand-colored engraving and aquatint on Whatman wove paper. National Gallery of Art, London.

 

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