The Song Remains
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.
Hey little lambs come here faster
I’ll welcome you with a little song
A shepherd began singing
and a maiden joined him along
Listen little lambs to hear the story
of his happiness long ago
There are no more sheep to be heard
He longs for the maiden’s loving words
Hey little lambs hear the story’s end
how they wander blindly far and wide
Deep in the river dwells the shepherd
beside the river mourns his bride
On an evening twilight corner
flames arise with thousand eyes
and the sky blue and blueness
the wandering Romani wildness
the moon
She’s combed her dark black poverty
for many small poor houses;
made peace with church and hungry acres
I feel my way spin out in landscapes
but my eyes know her glass
which too soon can break.
Hersh Veber (1904-1943) was born in Jasło (Yaslo). He had a religious upbringing, and later studied mathematics at Kraków University. He published his first poem in 1930, and continued to publish poems in a number of journals and periodicals. During the Nazi occupation he was confined in the Janów ghetto. He was murdered in Drohobycz along with other Jews from neighbouring ghettos.
(more…)Good night to you my little village
and a good forever…
Does a leaf rustle on the tree?
Or does sorrow sing everywhere?
Sirens cut the air in two
a late whore hurries down a side street
weary bodies wake from here to China
and homeless streetcars ring in the day
So how, in what way can I praise you
sadness lives long in your street miles
clouds hang gray over your red gates
from chimneys smoking up the sky
Seldom a ray sneaks in from somewhere
people run, rushing as if chasing someone
pale women – sick birds lurk on side streets
and days of wrath arrive in convoy
Łódź you’re called the Polish Manchester
you brag about your factory streets
while in your cellars and your attics
your sons and daughters choke
with worry and defeat
Motl Kozlovski (1910-1944?) was born in Przysucha (Pshiskhe). He had a traditional education, and worked as a tailor. He published poems in a number of journals. He was deported from the Łódź ghetto, and died in Auschwitz.
(more…)Don’t cry child
autumn will not live long in our land
he is like a poor man who is blind
the wind leads him by his hand
Give the autumn like a good coin away
to sorrow
He will cry for joy
until he comes to the frosted wintry door
The summer has bright eyes
by day the sun and by night the moon
The winter – a beautiful faced old man
with a white beard spread out over his knees
So give the Autumn a gift of your sadness
Khayim Semiatitski (1908-1943) was born in Tykocin into a rabbinic family, and was ordained as a rabbi, but never assumed an official position. He moved to Warsaw, and began to write poetry, poems, stories, and critical reviews which were published in a number of newspapers and literary journals.
His book Tropns Toy (Dewdrops) won the Y L Peretz award of the PEN club of Yiddish writers in Warsaw. He believed that the task of the artist is to polish the Creator’s work.
When the Nazis occupied Warsaw, he fled to Białystok, and later to Vilnius. He was murdered during the liquidation of the Vilna Ghetto in September 1943.
(more…)Feygele woke up from sleep
and cried,
she saw her Khayim in trouble
heard her mother cry
A full house of police
like animals people cried and were wild
one patted his dream-book
someone else spits and curses