The Song Remains – דאָס ליד איז געבליבן

Category: Yakov Shudrikh

  • A morning

    Morning hangs on the windows, blue / and fragrant with lilac and jasmine. / My lips tremble and pay quiet tribute to / everything that is young and green.

  • Springtime

    The water in the well has become much clearer, / the aged linden tree appears to be younger. / I am restless, as solace keeps eluding me, / not certain if I should be crying or singing.

  • Alone

    You never brought me white roses / yet the ground is white-bestrewn with them. / The entire earth is redolent of spring blossoms, / early spring blossoming on snow.

  • On the White Hills

    Smoke, a white smoke, floats on the white hills, / a whiteness that flies, scatters the snows. / No one comes now to pluck white roses, / so they fly into the air, whirl and twirl.

  • Like a Young Doe

    Like a young doe you ran off to the hills / to gather the scattered gold of summer. / Then tall grasses even wept at your feet, / and hills gulped their fill of gloom.

  • The Golden Tale

    The golden tale, my child, has vanished, / I heard it told by the fleeting wind. / The golden tale has flown far off, / it hovers with the golden sun above.

  • Love

    Just as musical chords can lie hidden / for someone to strum the silent strings, / I hold love in my heart and bide, / though no one has yet come by.

  • Alone in the Woods

    I stride around alone seeking to hide / my heart’s unease in the snow, the white snow. / Winds have fallen asleep in the rock-cracks / and the hills are silent, hushed and pale.

  • Open Door

    The wind suddenly threw open the door / and swept in a heap of leaves. / Sniffed, tugged at the curtain, / touched everything, stroked it with its breath, / and swiftly made its exit.

  • How Everything Here Has Changed

    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.