Friday night, the eve of the Sabbath, has always held a special flavor for many Jews in many lands. Eleanor and Joseph Mlotek’s compilation “Songs of Generations: New Pearls of Yiddish Song,” has a song titled “Fraytik Oyf Der Nakht.” It first appeared in 1905 in sheet music without attribution to any author or composer.

What follows is a transliterated version as it appears in the Mlotek collection, followed by an English version by Gus Tyler.

Fraytik Oyf Der Nakht

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Fraytik oyf der nakht

Az ikh kum nor fun der shul tsu geyn,

Shteyt shoyn mayn vaybele un lakht —

Oy, iz zi mole-kheyn

Un di khalelekh tsugedekt,

Mit a servetke vos es lakht

Nor a yidele veyst vi se shmekt

Der fraytik oyf der nakht.

Nokh dem kidesh a shtikele fish

Vos mayn vaybele hot aleyn gemakht

Zi iz vert in piskele a kish (kush)

Um fraytik oyf der nakht.

REFRAIN

Oy, fraytik oyf der nakht

Iz ayeder yid a meylekh

In yedn vinkele lakht

Di gantse shtub iz freylekh.

Nokh di lokshn mit yoykh

Dos shtikele fleysh iz oykh zeyer git (gut)

Dem tam fil ikh oykh

Vayl ikh bin a yid.

Nokh dem tsimes a glezele vayn

Dos hot keyn nar nit oysgetrakht

Un zikh legn in bet arayn

Um fraytik oyf der nakht.

Orem oder raykh —

Ayeder zingt tsum esn tsi (tsu)

Damolst iz yeder glaykh —

Bis zuntik in der fri.

Friday After Shul

It’s Friday, Friday in the night

When from the shul I do return

I greet my wife, a lovely sight

She wears a smile for which I yearn

There sits the challah covered neat

It’s covered with a napkin bright

To Jewish eyes the scene’s so sweet

This is our favored Friday night.

A drink comes first and then some fish

Prepared by my dear lovely wife

She’s tasty as her tasty dish

Oh, may it be thus all our life.

REFRAIN

Oh Friday after shul

Now every Jew’s a king.

When laughter is the rule

And every heart does sing.

We start with noodles in hot soup

Then comes a savory bit of meat

My spirits rise, they will not droop

Because a Jew sits in my seat.

Then after tsimmes comes the wine

A mix not made by any fool.

It’s time, I feel, I must recline

On Friday night that is the rule.

So, if you’re poor or if you’re rich

You feel as if you are reborn

Our life goes on without a hitch

And joyously till Sunday morn.

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