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.

  • Yisroel Shtern

    A little orphan in tattered clothes laughs,
    takes fright and races through streets and alleyways.

    He stole something.
    So he’s being chased.

    (more…)

  • Yisroel Shtern

    The world passes through their eyes
    as summer passes through fields.
    Just as the earth is taut with becoming,
    in their word, progress is primed.

    (more…)

  • Yisroel Shtern

    I’m not envious of anyone,
    save the song of the scythe
    eventide in the countryside…

    I’m not envious of anyone,
    save the fathomless music
    of the silence
    that chases the path,
    the robust and wending path
    of the roots
    of a tree.

    (more…)

  • Yisroel Shtern

    Though Springtime, there was rain and snow,
    and above the columns of night
    grief clambered like a cat and terrorized all the roads.
    I sat alone, leafing through an old holy book.

    (more…)

  • Yisroel Shtern (1894-1942) was born in Ostrołęka (Ostrolenke), educated in yeshivas, and became a follower of the Mussar movement. After being imprisoned during the First World War, he lived in Warsaw, where he ultimately perished in the Ghetto in 1942. He published poems in many literary journals, and became known as one of the most important Yiddish poets in the period between the two world wars. Like so many others, his unpublished work was lost when the Ghetto was destroyed.

    Sources:

  • Chaim Semiatitski (Khayim Semiatitsky)

    On the street
    the trodden snow lies.
    Its countenance is pale
    and it cries.

    So I’ll invite the snow
    into my abode
    to be a guest of mine.

    Who’d dare tread
    with muddied boots
    upon a guest of mine?

    Translated by Miri Koral

    (more…)

  • Yakov Shudrikh

    How everything here has changed, the color transformed.
    How lovely my city is, all spiffed up and adorned.
    The red flags flutter down nearly to the ground
    and for me every weekday is cause for celebration.

    (more…)

  • Moyshe Shimel (Maurycy Szymel)

    Here on the wooden bench
    is where we’ll wait for the sun to set.
    As we waited a thousand years past.
    It will certainly arrive. It has never fooled us yet.

    (more…)

  • Yakov Shudrikh

    With the night my silky dreams dissolved.
    With the night my quiet singing stopped.
    With the day, my poem arrived swimming
    on the storm with a fierce echoing sound.

    (more…)

  • Yakov “Yankev” Shudrikh (1906-1943) was born in Uhniv (Hivniv / Urnav) in the Lviv (Lemberg) district, in modern Ukraine. He wrote poetry from a young age, and took part in the revolutionary movement. He co-founded the General Jewish Labor Party, and wrote for their organ Der Veg (The Way) as well as many other publications. People sang his poems at demonstrations and illegal literary evenings.

    He loved football and played professionally as well as in matches between writers and actors.

    During the war, he was confined to the Lviv ghetto. He was murdered by the Gestapo in June 1943.

    Sources: