The Song Remains – דאָס ליד איז געבליבן

The Song Remains

People of the Warsaw Ghetto merged with a map of the Nazi occupation of Poland

דאָס ליד איז געבליבן

Welcome to our collection of Yiddish poems with English translations from Nazi German occupied Poland. We’ll be publishing one new poem per week into 2027, so be sure to subscribe to get free weekly updates.

  • Moyshe Shimel (Maurycy Szymel)

    It is not now important what anyone says
    the grass is beautiful and sweet is the joy
    of singing.

    I am not disturbed by the sleepless
    night swimming away
    Dawn is arriving at the golden shore
    a word finds a word like one brick
    finds another
    with rhythm and rhyme melted together
    A home for my sadness, a home for my joy
    I go in and out – it’s my choice

    The sun shines on doors, windows and walls.
    Here in my home, I am never a stranger.
    Everything is in its place
    lovely and clean
    And when it will be good for me in this world,
    I have a home.

    And it’s truly not important is what anyone says
    when my work is going in full swing
    The grass is beautiful and sweet is the joy
    of singing.

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  • Moyshe Shimel (1903-1942) was born in Lemberg (Lviv /  Lwów), and studied at the Polish language Jewish Humanistic High School. He wrote poetry for Chwila, Lwów’s Polish-language Jewish daily newspaper. He moved to Warsaw in 1930, and began writing poems in Yiddish as well, and publishing his works in Kiev and Palestine.

    When the Nazis arrived in Warsaw, Shimel fled back to Lwów, where he worked in the Judenrat. He is believed to have been murdered in the Lwów Ghetto in 1942.

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  • Y L Kohn

    Time ago the street led me into work,
    today work leads me – into the street
    and I drag myself with healthy hands
    like a hundred thousand others, here and there…

    And it happens: I mix in the crowd
    the streets, the city’s filled with cries
    “We want work! We want bread!”
    You only get city work — woe is me…

    And I know the world is a broken mess
    and only the working class can heal
    Time ago the street led me into work,
    today work leads me – into the street

    (more…)

  • Miryem (Miriam) Ulinover

    What has happened to my hair
    A wonder suddenly happened there!

    There was a blond knot cold and hard
    and overnight it’s smooth and smart

    (more…)

  • Khayim Semiatitski

    Sleep my child my dear at rest
    your father will no longer sell
    raisins and almonds
    Aye Liew Liew Liew Liew

    On the way he was beaten,
    when riding to the village
    to buy a little calf and corn –
    bloody, beaten he was carried home

    Sun is laughing on your cradle
    but I close doors and windows tight,
    the white sheep ran away in fear
    Aye Liew Liew Liew Liew

    Crying? Hard for you to sleep
    On a little pillow of hard straw?
    the feathers haven’t run away
    bad hands have made it so

    Quietly comes the cow from field
    the little sheep makes happy sounds
    in evening red I will feed you well today
    Aye Liew Liew Liew Liew

    Don’t cry, father did not ride far away
    though his parting was intense
    he only took little with him
    to the country mart

    Sleep my child my dear at rest
    your father will no longer sell
    raisins and almonds
    Aye Liew Liew Liew Liew

    (more…)

  • Borekh Olitzki (Baruch Olitzky)

    1.
    June walks around the forest with the sun
    as if he held a red fruit in his mouth
    and hangs onto every tree with love
    and tenderly caresses every plant

    (more…)

  • Borekh Gelman

    The train takes me away
    in the lonely unknown
    my heart is so tense
    unknown is the way…

    (more…)

  • Miryem (Miriam) Ulinover

    Oo-hoo-hoo wind in the chimney
    I hear a sadness time
    I hear a black, dark dead long note
    The chimney sweeper’s own love song

    Did not know of joy to sing
    did not know except one thing
    Black are hands and black the face
    blackened life is in this place

    Where eyes can hardly move up there
    black are chimney sweepers hands and hair
    never smoked when I was with her
    The flame of love was grand

    How I loved this lovely maiden
    loved her day and night
    She was pure and lovely
    and the flame burned bright

    Oh the wind was frightening
    sad and hurting from his threat
    she sought safety by the fire
    and she sits there yet…

    Oo-hoo-hoo how wind did rumble
    Oo-hoo-hoo blowing with alarm
    She, collapsed, sits by the fire
    trying to stay warm…

    (more…)

  • Mordche (Mordechai) Gebirtig

    Hey little lambs come here faster
    I’ll welcome you with a little song
    A shepherd began singing
    and a maiden joined him along

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  • H Veber

    On an evening twilight corner
    flames arise with thousand eyes
    and the sky blue and blueness
    the wandering Romani wildness
    the moon

    (more…)