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.

  • Miryem (Miriam) Ulinover

    Time for me to get going…
    enough playing the fool:
    sitting around and hoping
    for a hot glance from you.

    (more…)

  • Roze Perets-Laks

    So good on a wintry blue dawn
    to sweetly stretch out
    one’s tired limbs
    and feel the tender embrace
    of the bed.
    Then the rosy velvet windowpanes
    are etched diamond-sharp
    and snowflakes so gentle
    fall near the window
    like little sleepy doves.
    And mixed up in one’s head are:
    silvery sounds of sleds,
    the late Spring field, the
    sour cherry tree scattered
    with white leaf buds and
    small boys already playing raffles.

    Translated by Miri Koral

    (more…)

  • Roze Perets-Laks

    Like flowing metal, the December sky.
    Now and then a last skinny leaf falls
    from the naked poplars
    juxtaposed
    like a black winged paw
    that with a wintry sound
    sinks into the snowy-brown
    rotting earth.
    Through the prism of endless melting
    no trace of a path shows
    no trace of a horizon.
    Just Matteus the war invalid
    with his rickety sticklike legs
    like stumps in a felled woods
    travelling step by step
    in his own “bond” with
    the tethered tatty donkey
    and the two of them
    two lost and sick nags
    seeking their home in empty streets
    in the vast December eve.

    Translated by Miri Koral

    (more…)

  • Roze Perets-Laks (1894-1941?) was born in Puławy (Pulavi), in the Lublin district of Poland. She studied dentistry in Warsaw, and later practised as a dentist there. During her time in Warsaw, she spent time in the home of her father’s cousin, the iconic Yiddish writer and poet I L Peretz, and later wrote a memoir about him, Arum Perets (Around Peretz). She married the sculptor Aleksander Laks in 1923, and moved to Vilna, where she lived until the Nazis murdered her in c1941. She published many poems in a variety of publications.

    Source: Congress for Jewish Culture

  • Chaim Semiatitski (Khayim Semiatitsky)

    In my shabby home my kingdom blooms.
    Daily at the window dawn arrives
    with a tiding that the sky is now clad in blue.
    I fill my eyes with blue to the brim
    and like a banner, out in the world
    I brandish them.

    (more…)

  • Chaim Semiatitski (Khayim Semiatitsky)

    Evening arrives at
    the river’s shore in rose slippers
    tells the white geese to go to sleep
    and corrals a herd of stars
    to bathe in the river.
    And then it stands
    and washes its dark face
    in the wind and waves
    till morning.

    /MK

    (more…)

  • Ber Horovits

    Not just once
    will you stand at my window
    on wild stormy nights
    bathing your pale blood
    in the anguish of past joy.

    (more…)

  • Miryem (Miriam) Ulinover

    When dear summer makes its appearance,
    dresses lighten, bright and pleasant;
    I’m the sole one, an exception,
    sheathing myself in a bold red garment.

    (more…)

  • Moyshe Shimel (Maurycy Szymel)

    Summer. Nights are round as moons.
    I love the windswept grasses and the face
    of a woman
    walking on silver paths in the forest depths.

    It’s blue
    and profound loneliness
    streams from underfoot –
    the night is full of all that rustles and blooms.
    And how good it is now like this
    just as before writing a poem
    about windows open to the wind, to night,
    and about white hands on eyes that are closed.

    /MK

    (more…)

  • Mordkhe (Mordechai) Gebirtig

    On the wall, left of my bed
    my daughter’s portrait hangs
    frequently during the night I think of her
    and see her lovely face
    and hear her talk with me…

    “Daddy dear, it’s been so long
    since we have been together
    this war for sure cannot last long
    I promise I will come to you
    I hear spring knocking at your door”
    I see her smiling sweetly speaking love above my bed
    My daughter’s Shifreleh’s Portrait

    Kraków, 2 December 1939

    (more…)