Ephéméride éclectique d'une librocubiculariste glossophile et mélomane.
27 Janvier 2023
Rivkele di shabbesdicke, arbet in farbriq,
S'breyt a fodem tsu a fodem, Flekhtn oykh der shtrik,
Oy du getto finstere, doyert shoyn zo lang,
In dos harz azoy farklemt, tut mir azoy bang!
Ir getrayer Hershele iz avek nishto,
Zint fin yenem Shabes on, zint fin yener shoah.
Iz fartroyert Rivkele, yommerts tog un nakht,
Un atsind baym ridele zitse zikh un trakht.
Vu iz er mayn libinker? Leybter nok vu?
Hefker in a konzentrationlagger, arbet shver on ru?
Oy vi biter iz im dokh! finster iz im dokh!
Zint fin yenem shabbes on, zint fin yener shoah.
Oy vi biter iz im dokh! finster iz im dokh!
Zint fin yenem shabbes on, zint fin yener shoah.
Rivkele di shabbesdicke, arbet in farbriq,
S'breyt a fodem tsu a fodem, Flekhtn oykh der shtrik,
Oy du getto finstere, doyert shoyn zo lang,
In dos harz azoy farklemt, tut mir azoy bang!
Rivkele without Sabbath
Is working in the factory,
Twisting threads together,
Fashioning a length of rope.
Alas the somber ghetto
Lasts too long
And, with a heavy heart,
I feel so sorry for her lot.
Her devoted son Herszele
Is gone, is no longer.
Since that Saturday,
Since that hour,
Rivkele is in mourning,
Crying day and night.
And now she sits at her spinning wheel
Bemused in deep thought.
Where is my beloved son?
Is he alive somewhere?
Perhaps in a concentration camp,
He works hard without rest.
How bleak it must be for him there;
How bitter it is for her here,
Since that Saturday,
Since that hour….
Ephéméride éclectique d'une librocubiculariste glossophile et mélomane