DER YIDDISH-VINKL February 3, 2006
The pages of the Forverts devoted to Pearls of Yiddish Poetry recently featured Yankl Yankelovitch (1905-1938). His early death was no accident; Yankelovitch was a victim of Stalin’s campaign against Jewish intellectuals. What follows is the text of a poem that Yankelovitch wrote when he visited his mother’s tomb. The transliteration is by Goldie Gold. The English version is by Gus Tyler.
Tsu Mayn Mamen
Shofer, shofer, loyf nit, halt ayn di mashin
Durkh ot yene hoyfn kereve ahin
Tsu dem o shtetl, in a shtub do krum
Shteyt, dakht zikh, mayn betl, oysgedreyt un shtum.
Un nit vayt fun danen, bay a ployt fun leym
Ligt dort hin mayn mame, shtil unter a shteyn.
Nit vayl ikh gleyb in toyte, tsi in yener velt
Mustu lebn ployt dot opshteln zikh shnel.
Nor vayl s’ligt a mentsh do, vos zayn gantser troym
Iz geven — ir kind zol; lebn khotsh geroym
Nokh a tog a zatn eynik zikh geyogt
Un azoy gelatet hot zi tog nokh tog.
Nu, hot zi getroymt nor un zikh nit devart
Vaksn itst nor beymer oyf ir keyver tsart
Iz fun danen ort, vil der zun dos kind irs
Zen ir keyver ort.
Shofer, shofer, loyft nit, kereve ahin
Lem ot yene hoyfn shtel op dayn mashin.
To My Mother
Chauffeur, chauffeur, take it easy
Through these courtyards bright and breezy
Until you come unto a shtetl
Where there is very little metal.
You’ll find a house most unpretentious
Though in my crib I was licentious
Not far from there you’ll find a gravestone
The only land my mom does now own.
I do not think the dead are living
Nor that they have the power of giving
Now, at this fence, you should be stopping
For here lies one whose head was popping.
With dreams about the child she nourished
And praying that someday he’d flourish
Her day was busy, full of labor
She bounced from neighbor unto neighbor.
Now on her grave a tree is growing.
The years they come and keep on going
Mom’s son is one of world renown
He brought great fame to mother’s town.
Chauffeur, chauffeur, take it easy
Through these courtyards bright and breezy.
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