| GUTER ZIKORN |
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A mol iz der zikorn oykh a guter,
Un az me bet bay im a toyve - tut er.
Er brengt a mol tsurik azsh biz der riye
A bliml fun der kindheyt inem blien.
Un demalt vakht oykh oyf der khush-hareyakh
Un tsu dem ever mit a shprung dergey ikh.
Di mame rayst di hor mir mitn keml,
Mit puter shmirt zi on a vaysn zeml.
Zi tut mir on di kinderishe kleyder
Un firt mir op tsum rebin inem kheder.
Ikh vil nisht geyn in kheder, kh'bin a veyner,
Der rebe hot a moyl mit gele tseyner,
Der rebe hot a groysn shvartsn sider,
Un dort iz mir der alef-beys dervider.
Nor ven es trikenen zikh oys di trern,
Tseshaynen zikh di oysies vi di shtern,
Baheftn zeyer likht in gantse verter
Un shteln zikh oyf vunderlekhe erter.
Un laykhtn op fun groysn shvartsn sider
Oyf yorn shpeter - biz in mayne lider.
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| Yiddish - GOOD MEMORY |
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There are times when memory is a nice guy, too.
Ask him a favor and he'll do it for you.
He can sometimes recall to your very sight
A childhood flower, all blooming and bright,
Which then rouses the sense of smell from its sleep
And I return to the past in one great leap.
My mother is running a comb through my hair;
She smears a white roll, the butter's right there.
She dresses me up in my little boy's clothes
And to the rebbe in kheyder away we go.
I don't want to go to kheyder, I screech,
The rebbe has a mouth full of yellow teeth.
The rebbe's black prayer book is big and thick,
And the alef-beys inside - it makes me sick.
But once the tears have dried from my whining
The letters, like stars, begin their shining.
They unite their lights in full words with no spaces
And put themselves in unbelievable places.
And shine out from the big black prayer book tomes
For years thereafter, all the way to my poems.
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