Liederabend 50 | Forbidden Songs: Jewish Voices Uncensored
NEC faculty members JJ Penna, Damien Francoeur-Krzyzek and Cameron Stowe present NEC graduate students from the departments of collaborative piano and voice in an evening of song.
This particular Liederabend concert will feature Jewish composers whose music was banned under the Nazi regime, including Alexander von Zemlinsky, Pavel Haas, Kurt Weill, Viktor Ullmann, and others. The program will also include a performance of Shostakovich's important cycle "From Jewish Folk Poetry,” which he wrote in solidarity with Soviet Jews just after World War II.
The Liederabend—literally, "evening of song"—dates back to the 1800s, when musicians and lovers of music would gather at someone's home, and one or more singers and a pianist would perform the songs of composers of the day. In the field of classical music, these songs are referred to as "art songs," and the German art songs are called "Lieder." In Germany, the great age of song came in the 19th century. German and Austrian composers had written music for voice with keyboard before this time, but it was with the flowering of German literature in the Classical and Romantic eras that composers found high inspiration in great poetry, sparking the genre known as the "Lied."
The tradition of the art song composition continues today, with composers from all corners of the world setting poetry in many languages, scored for voice and piano. The NEC Liederabend series presents songs in a variety of languages—not only German—dating from the 19th century up to the present day.
About Song Lab:
This Liederabend performance is connected to NEC's Song Lab, a new model of training for singers and pianists based around the performance and study of art song. This fall, Song Lab focuses on German song repertoire (Lieder), including the history and culture surrounding it, and this Liederabend is performed as an extension of this area of study.
WATCH CONCERT STREAM:
Samuel Rosner | Ashrei Hagafrur from "A Kindling Flame"
Hannah Szenes (1921-1944) parachuted into Yugoslavia to aid the resistance in fighting the Nazis and liberating Hungarian Jews from concentration camps. However, she was captured, tortured, and shot by firing squad at the age of 23. Despite having endured prolonged torture at the hands of the Nazis, Szenes refused to reveal anything about her mission and emerged as a heroine of the Holocaust. While Hannah Senesh faced an untimely death for her heroism, her poetry still stands as a testament to the kindling flame of her spirit.
Text
Ashrei Hagafrur
Hanna Szenes
.אשריהגפרורשנשרףוהציתלהבות
.אשריהלהבהשבערהבסיתרילבבות
.אשריהלבבותשידעולחדולבכבוד
. אשריהגפרורשנשרףוהציתלבבותBlessed is the match
Blessed is the match consumed in kindling flame.
Blessed is the flame that burns in the secret fastness of the heart.
Blessed is the heart with strength to stop its beating for honor's sake.
Blessed is the match consumed in kindling flame.
Translation by Marie SyrkinArtists- Michaela Kelly, soprano
- Thomas Burrill, piano
Alexander von Zemlinsky | Songs
Blaues Sternlein, No. 5from Walzer-Gesänge nach toskanischen Liedern von Ferdinand Gregorovius, op. 6
Liebe Schwalbe, No. 1 from Walzer-Gesänge nach toskanischen Liedern von Ferdinand Gregorovius, op. 6
Irmelin Rose, No. 4 from Irmelin Rose und andere Gesänge, op. 7
Empfängnis, No. 6 from Lieder, op. 2
Meeraugen, No. 5 from Irmelin Rose und andere Gesänge, op. 7Texts
Blaues Sternlein
Blaues Sternlein, du sollst schweigen,
Das Geheimnis gib nicht kund.
Sollst nicht allen Leuten zeigen
Unsern stillen Herzensbund.
Mögen andre stehn in Schmerzen,
Jeder sage, was er will;
Sind zufrieden unsre Herzen,
Sind wir beide gerne still.
Liebe SchwalbeLiebe Schwalbe, kleine Schwalbe,
Du fliegst auf und singst so früh,
Streuest durch die Himmelsbläue
Deine süße Melodie.
Die da schlafen noch am Morgen,
Alle Liebenden in Ruh',
Mit dem zwitschernden Gesange
Die Versunk'nen weckest du.
Auf! nun auf! ihr Liebesschläfer,
Weil die Morgenschwalbe rief:
Denn die Nacht wird den betrügen,
Der den hellen Tag verschlief.
Ferdinand Gregorovius
Irmelin Rose
Seht, es war einmal ein König,
Dem die Schätze reich gedieh’n,
Und der beste, der ihm eigen,
Hieß mit Namen Irmelin.
Irmelin Rose,
Irmelin Sonne,
Irmelin alles, was schön war.
Schier von jedem Ritterhelme
Wehte ihrer Farben Schein,
Und mit jedem Reim der Sprache
Klang ihr Name überein:
Irmelin Rose, …
Freier kamen scharenweise
Hergezogen zum Palast,
Und mit zärtlichen Gebärden
Klang ihr Schmeicheln ohne Rast:
Irmelin Rose,
Irmelin Sonne,
Irmelin alles, was schön ist.
Doch Prinzessin Stahlherz jagte
All die Freier schnippisch fort,
Fand an jedem was zu tadeln,
Hier die Haltung, da das Wort.
Irmelin Rose, …Original text in Danish by Jens Peter Jacobsen.
German translation by Robert Franz Arnold.
Empfängnis
Du weiche Nacht, o komm mich zu umfangen,
Mein Sehnen rundest du und reifst den Wein.
Ein seliges, ein stummes Heiland-Bangen
Schwellt meine Seele, zur Empfängnis rein.
Und wie ich sehnend meine Arme breite,
Da ringt sich von des Himmels Früchten los
Ein heller Keim und fällt aus Gottes Weite
In meiner Seele betend bangen Schoß.
Paul Wertheimer
Meeraugen
Was will in deinen Augen mir
das dunkelvolle, fremde Weh,
so tief und schwer
wie Stürme, die Ruhe suchten
im Schoß der grauen See.
Versinken will, versinken mir
in dieser Augen tiefen Schoß
mein Herz - und will
wie Du so still,
so wild an Dein Herz schlagen,
dann brechen die Stürme los!
Und will dich wiegen so mit mir
in rasender, lachender Seligkeit
auf freiem Meer!
Bis tief und sehr
die Herzen wieder ruhen,
ruhen vom Sturm und Streit.
Richard DehmelLittle Blue Star
Little blue star, you should be silent -
do not reveal the secret,
you should not show all people
our silent heart-bond.
May others stand in pain,
let them say what they will;
Our hearts are contented,
and we happily keep silent.
Dear Swallow
Dear swallow, little swallow,
You fly up and sing so early,
Scattering through the blue sky
Your sweet melody.
They who still sleep in the morning,
All lovers in their peace,
With your chirping songs,
You wake those who have sunken.
Up! Get up! you sleeping lovers,
For the morning swallow calls:
Because the night will cheat those
Who sleep away the bright day.
Translation by Angela Yam
Irmelin RoseOnce upon a time, there was a king
Whose treasures richly thrived,
And the very best, that was his own,
Was called with the name of Irmelin.
Irmelin Rose,
Irmelin Sun,
Irmelin, everything that was beautiful.
Sheer from every knight’s helmet
Waved her colors,
And with every rhyme in the language
Her name was harmonized:
Irmelin Rose, …
Suitors came in droves,
Drawn here to the palace,
And with tender gestures
Sounded flatteries to her without rest:
Irmelin Rose,
Irmelin Sun,
Irmelin, everything that is beautiful.
But Princess Steel-Heart chased
All the suitors pertly away,
Found in each one something to criticize:
Here the attitude, there the language.
Irmelin Rose, …English translation by Angela Yam
Conception
You soft night, O come embrace me.
You round out my longing and ripen the wine.
A blessed, mute awe for the Saviour
swells my soul for pure conception.
And as I longingly spread my arms,
there, wrestling itself loose from heaven's fruit,
a bright seed falls from God's vastness
into the devoutly reverent womb of my soul.
Translation by Angela Yam
Sea Eyes
What do your eyes do to me,
full of dark, strange woe,
so deep and heavy
like storms that sought rest
in the lap of the grey sea.
My heart wants to sink
in the womb of these eyes
and just
as still as you are,
my wild heart wants to beat against yours,
then the storms break loose!
And wants to rock you thus with me
in frenzied, laughing bliss
on the open sea!
Until deeply and utterly
the hearts rest again,
rest from storm and strife.
Translation by Angela YamArtists- Angela Yam, soprano
- Feng Niu, piano
Pavel Haas | Four Songs on Chinese Poetry (1944)
Zaslech jsem divoké husy (I Heard the Wild Geese)
V bambusovém háji (In the Bamboo Grove)
Daleko měsíc je domova (The Moon is Far from Home)
Probděná noc (A Sleepless Night)Texts
Zaslech jsem divoké husy
Domov je tam, daleko, daleko, daleko tam,
mělo bys domů, zbloudilé srdce! Daleko tam domov.
Za cizí noci, v podzimním dešti, když nejvíc studil
smutku chladný van: ve vysokém domě svém
zaslechl jsem křik divokých husí: právě přilétly.
Domov je daleko tam.
Wei Jing-wu
Translated into Czech by Bohumil Mathesius
V bambusovém háji
V bambusech nejsou lidé, v bambusech sedím sám.
Tu na loutnu zahraju tiše, tu sobě zahvízdám.
Kdo, řekněte lidé, kdo ví, kde v bambusech sedím sám, sám?
Kde v bambusech sedím sám a na východ srpečku luny bambusem pozírám.
Wang Wei
Translated into Czech by Bohumil Mathesius
Daleko měsíc je domova
Z temného moře vyrůstá měsíc,
v daleké, v daleké zemi teď rozkvétá též.
Láska svůj truchlí daremný sen, láska truchlí svůj sen,
čeká, čeká na vzdálený večer, na vzdálený večer.
Jasněji měsíc svítí v hoře mé.
Oblékám noční šat, chladné je jíní.
Ruce mé, ruce, kterak jste prázdné,
říci to všechno! - říci to všechno!
Spánku, sen dej mi,spánku, sen dej mi o návratu domů,
o návratu domů, domů,
spánku, sen nemůžeš dát -- mě toužení stále budí...
Chang Tiou-Lin
Translated into Czech by Bohumil Mathesius
Probděná noc
Větrem se bambus houpá,
na kámen měsíce sed.
Do chvění Mléčné dráhy stín divoké kachny vzlét.
Na naše shledání myslím,na naše shledání, shledání myslím.
Víčka míjí sen, víčka má míjí sen.
Zatím co radostí zpívám,co radostí zpívám, zpívám,
strak repot vzbouzí už den,vzbouzí už den, vzbouzí den!
Lalalala...
Chan I
Translated into Czech by Bohumil MathesiusI Heard the Wild Geese
Home is there, far away.
You should go home, stray heart,
In the foreign night, in the autumn rain,
When a cold breeze of sadness was the most chilly. In my lofty home, I heard the cry of wild geese; just now, they flew in.
Home is there, far away.
English translation by Damien Francoeur-Krzyzek
In the Bamboo Grove
In the bamboo, there is no one, in the bamboo, I sit alone.
Here on a lute I play softly,I whistle to myself.
Who, tell me, people, who knows where in the bamboo I am sitting by myself,
and look at the rising sickle moon through the bamboo?
English translation by Damien Francoeur-Krzyzek
The Moon is Far from Home
The moon grows from the gloomy sea.
In the distance, the land also blossoms now.
Love mourns its futile dream;
It waits for a far-off evening..
In my grief, the moon shines more brightly.
I put on night-clothes; chilly is the hoarfrost.
My hands, how empty you are
to say everything.
Sleep, give me a dream about returning home.
You cannot give me a dream.
My longing keeps waking me up.
English translation by Damien Francoeur-Krzyzek
Sleepless Night
The bamboo rocks in the wind.
On a stone, the moon sits.
The shadow of a wild duck flies into the wavering Milky Way.
I am thinking about our reunion.
Dreams avoid my eyelids.
And yet, I am singing with joy.
The chatter of magpies is already waking up the day.
Lalalala…
English translation by Damien Francoeur-KrzyzekArtists- Corey Gaudreau, baritone
- Kyunga Lee, piano
Georg Kreisler | Ich kann tanzen
Text
Ich kann tanzen
Ich kann tanzen – doch ich tanze nicht!
Ich kann singen – doch ich singe nicht!
Ich kann lesen, doch die Tränen in den Augen sind so scharf!
Also denk' ich: "Das hat keinen Sinn!"
Und ich schreibe ein paar Worte hin
Diese Worte träum' ich später in der Nacht –
Was man nicht darf!
Ich kann sterben – doch ich sterbe nicht!
Ich kann leben – doch ich lebe nicht!
Ich kann gehen, doch die Füße sind vom Wandern viel zu schlaff!
Drum erzähl' ich die Vergangenheit
Und ich spüre etwas Ewigkeit –
Dieses Spüren ist das Letzte was ich hab'
Und was ich schaff'!
Draußen –
Alles ist so Draußen –
Alles kommt von außen
Nur das Böse bleibt im Inneren versteint!
Morden –
Einmal jemand morden –
Was ist denn geworden
Dass mir dieses Wort so menschenfreundlich scheint?
Ich kann weinen – doch ich weine nicht!
Ich kann schreien – doch ich schreie nicht!
Und ich frage nicht einmal mehr, was die Antwort einmal war!
Denn ich sitze, seit mein Herz zerriss
In der Stille, in der Finsternis
Und die Sonne scheint auf alles – jeden Tag und jedes Jahr!
Und die Sonne scheint auf alles – jeden Tag und jedes Jahr!
Georg KreislerI can dance
I can dance - yet I don't dance!
I can sing - yet I don't sing!
I can read, but the tears in my eyes are so hot!
So I think: "That makes no sense!"
And I write a few words down
I dream of these words later in the night –
Which one shouldn’t do!
I can die - yet I don't die!
I can live - yet I don't live!
I can walk, but my feet are too limp from wandering!
That's why I tell stories of the past
And I feel some sort of eternity -
This feeling is the last one that I have
And that I can manage!
Outside -
Everything is so outside -
Everything comes from outside
Only evil remains petrified inside!
Murder -
Once somebody murdered -
How has it since become
That this word seems so humane to me?
I can cry - yet I don't cry!
I can scream - yet I don't scream!
And I don't even ask anymore what the answer used to be!
Because I've been sitting since my heartbreak
In the silence, in the darkness
And the sun shines on everything - every day and every year!
And the sun shines on everything - every day and every year!
Translation by Theodora NestorovaArtists- Theodora Nestorova, soprano
- Hanzheng Li, piano
Hanns Eisler | Mutter Beimlein
Text
Mutter Beimlein
Mutter Beimlein hat ein Holzbein
Damit kann sie ganz gut gehn,
Und mit dem Schuh, und wenn wir brav sind,
Dürfen wir das Holzbein sehn.
In dem Holzbein steckt ein Nagel,
Daran hängt sie den Hausschlüssel dran,
Daß sie ihn, wenn sie vom Wirtshaus heimkommt,
Auch im Dunkeln finden kann.
Bertolt BrechtMother Beimlein (verses 1-2 only)
Mother Beimlein has a peg leg
With it, she can walk rather well
And with a shoe on, and if we’re brave
We’re allowed to see the wooden leg.
In her leg there is a nail
Where she can hang her doorkey up
So, when she comes home from the pub
Even in the darkness, can she find it.
Translation by Theodora NestorovaArtists- Theodora Nestorova, soprano
- Hansheng Li, piano
Kurt Weill | Nanna's Lied
Text
Nanna’s Lied
Meine Herren, mit siebzehn Jahren
kam ich auf den Liebesmarkt,
und ich habe viel erfahren.
Böses gab es viel
doch das war das Spiel.
Aber manches hab ich doch verargt.
—Schliesslich bin ich ja auch ein Mensch.
Gott sei Dank geht alles schnell vorüber
auch die Liebe und der Kummer sogar.
Wo sind die Tränen von gestern Abend?
Wo ist der Schnee vom vergangenen Jahr?
Freilich geht man mit den Jahren
leichter auf den Liebesmarkt
und umarmt sie dort in Scharen.
Aber das Gefühl wird erstaunlich kühl
wenn man damit allzuwenig kargt.
—Schliesslich geht ja jeder Vorrat zu Ende.
Gott sei Dank geht alles schnell vorüber
auch die Liebe und der Kummer sogar.
Wo sind die Tränen von gestern Abend?
Wo ist der Schnee vom vergangenen Jahr?
Und auch wenn man gut das Handeln
lernte auf der Liebesmess’,
Lust in Kleingeld zu verwandeln
wird doch niemals leicht.
Nun, es wird erreicht.
Doch man wird auch älter unterdes.
—Schliesslich bleibt man ja nicht immer siebzehn.
Gott sei Dank geht alles schnell vorüber
auch die Liebe und Kummer sogar.
Wo sind die Tränen von gestern Abend?
Wo ist der Schnee vom vergangenen Jahr?
Bertolt BrechtNanna’s Song
Gentlemen, with seventeen years old,
I came upon the love market,
and I experienced a lot.
There were a lot of bad things,
but that was the game.
Still, I resented some of it.
—After all, I’m a person, too.
Thank God it all goes by quickly,
both the love and even the pain.
Where are last night’s tears?
Where is the snow of yesteryear?
Sure, with years gone by,
it gets easier to put your love up for sale
and to embrace a troop of customers.
But the feeling becomes astonishingly cold
if you don’t guard your feelings enough.
—After all, every supply eventually runs dry.
Thank God it all goes by quickly,
both the love and even the pain.
Where are last night’s tears?
Where is the snow of yesteryear?
And even when you get good
at dealing in the love trade,
Converting pleasure into small change
somehow never becomes easier.
But, it gets done.
Yet meanwhile you age.
—After all, no one stays seventeen forever.
Thank God it all goes by quickly,
both the love and even the pain.
Where are last night’s tears?
Where is the snow of yesteryear?Translation by Theodora Nestorova
Artists- Theodora Nestorova, soprano
- Hanzheng Li, piano
Hanns Eisler | Und endlich
Text
Und endlich
Und endlich stirbt die Sehnsucht doch —
Wie Blüten sterben im Kellerloch,
Die täglich auf ein bißchen Sonne warten.
Wie Tiere sterben, die man lieblos hält,
Und alles Unbetreute in der Welt!
Man fragt nicht mehr: “Wo wird sie sein!—?!?“
Ruhig erwacht man, ruhig schläft man ein.
Wie in verwehte Jugendtage blickst du zurück
Und irgendjemand sagt dir leise: „'s ist dein Glück!“
Da denkt man, daß es vielleicht wirklich so ist,
Wundert sich still, daß man doch nicht froh ist
Hanns Eisler and Peter Altenberg
= Richard EngländerAnd at last
And at last longing dies,
as flowers die in the cellar,
Waiting every day for a little bit of sunlight,
as animals die if one keeps them without love,
and as do all the neglected people in the world!
You no longer ask: "Where can it be found?"
Calmly do you awaken, calmly do you fall asleep.
As you look back on the vanished days of your youth,
and someone says to you softly: "This is your good fortune!" ,
then you think that perhaps it really is true;
yet silently you wonder why you are still not happy.
Translation copyright © by Emily Ezust from the
LiederNet Archivehttps://www.lieder.net/Artists- Theodora Nestorova, soprano
- Hanzheng Li, piano
Viktor Ullmann | Liederbuch des Hafis
Vorausbestimmung
Betrunken
Unwiderstehliche Schönheit
Texts
Vorausbestimmung
Alles ist vorausbestimmt
Durch die große Güte Allahs,
Ach, was soll ich tun?
Ich bin längst vorausbestimmt
Für den Wein und für die Schenke
Ach, was soll ich tun?
Wie die Vögel ihre Büsche,
Wie die Rehe ihre Wälder
Lieben durch Vorausbestimmung,
Also liebe ich alleine
Wein und Schenke und die Schenkin, -
Alles ist vorausbestimmt
Durch die große Güte Allahs,
Ach, was soll ich tun?
Betrunken
Hafis, du bist betrunken
Ich sehs an deinem Schatten,
An diesem Taumelschatten,
Der sich so toll gebärdet,
Als käm er aus dem Tollhaus!
Ei, welch verrückter Schatten
Im allzu hellen Mondschein!
Das fuchtelt und das biegt sich
Und stolpert hin und reckt sich
Aufwärts und nach den Seiten, -
Ei, welch grotesker Schatten,
Welch indiskreter Mondschein!
Nie hab ichs glauben wollen,
Wenn scheltend mich Suleima
Beschwor, ich sei betrunken, -
Jetzt muß ichs wahrlich glauben:
Ich bin ein würdeloser,
Ein aller Anmut barer,
Ein ganz betrunkner Trinker
Mit einem Taumelschatten
Im indiskreten Mondschein!
Unwiderstehliche Schönheit
Durch deine schönen Locken werden
Die Heiden und die Glaubensstarken
In gleicher Weise sinnverwirrt.
Die schwachen Seelen stürzen taumelnd
In deiner Wangen holde Grübchen,
Die starken Seelen stürzen nach.
Dein Aug, das von der schwarzen Kunst
Geschaffen ward, lenkt aus den Wolken
Des Adlers Flug zu sich zurück.
Die zarte Nachtigall, die nicht
Aufsteigen kann in Wolkenfernen,
Ist ganz und gar in deinem Bann.
Hafis vergaß um deinetwillen
Die Morgen- und die Nachtgebete,
Klar ist sein Seelenuntergang!
Hafis
Translated to German by Hans BethgePredestination
Everything is predestined
Through the great goodness of Allah,
Oh, what shall I do?
I have long been predestined
For wine and for the tavern
Oh, what shall I do?
Like the birds to their bushes,
Like the deer to their forests,
Love through predestination
Also I love only
Wine and tavern and the barmaid, -
Everything is predestined
Through the great goodness of Allah,
Oh, what shall I do?
Drunk
Hafis, you are drunk
I can tell by your shadow
By your wobbly shadow
That is behaving so crazily,
As if it came from the madhouse!
Oh, what a crazy shadow
In entirely too bright moonlight!
It wavers and bends
And stumbles and stretches
Upwards and side-to-side, -
Oh, what a grotesque shadow,
What indiscreet moonlight!
I never wanted to believe it,
When Suleima scolded me,
Swearing that I was a drunk, -
Now I must truly believe it:
I am undignified,
Completely devoid of grace,
A total drunken drunkard
With a wobble-shadow
In the indiscreet moonlight!
Irresistible Beauty
Through your beautiful locks
The pagans and the true believers
Are in the same way mystified.
The weak souls topple staggering
In the sweet dimples of your cheeks,
The strong souls topple after.
Your eye, created from the darkest art
Lures out of the clouds
The eagles in midflight back to you.
The sweet nightingale, who cannot
Climb up to the distant clouds,
Is totally and utterly under your spell.
Hafis forgot, for your sake,
His morning and nightly prayers,
The doom of his soul is clear!
English translation by Andrew StackArtists- Andrew Stack, baritone
- Cynthia Tseng, piano
Samuel Rosner | Yesh Kochavim from "A Kindling Flame"
Text
Yesh Kochavim
ישכוכביםשאורםמגיעארצהרקכאשרהםעצמםאבדוואינם
ישאנשים
שזיוזכרםמאירכאשרהםעצמםאינםיותרבתוכנו
אורותאלה –
המבהיקיםבחשכתהלילה–הםשמראיםלאדםאתאורותהדרך
–
המבהיקיםבחשכתהלילה–הםשמראיםלאדםאתאורותהדרך
Hanna SzenesThere are stars
There are stars
whose light reaches Earth even though they have become extinct.There are people
whose radiant memory lights the world even though they are no longer among the living.
These lights brightly shine in the darkest of nights.
They lead the way for mankind.
Translation by Samuel RosnerArtists- Michaela Kelly, soprano
- Thomas Burrill, piano
Dmitri Shostakovich | From Jewish Folk Poetry, op. 79
Плач об умершем младенце (Lament For a Dead Child)
Заботливые мама и тётя (The Thoughtful Mother and Aunt)
Колыбельная (Lullaby)
Перед долгой разлукой (Before a Long Separation)
Предостережение (Warning)
Брошенный отец (The Forsaken Father)
Песня о нужд (Song of Misery)
Зима (Winter)
Хорошая жизнь (A Good Life)
Песня девушки (Song of a Young Girl)
Счастье (Happiness)Texts
Плач об умершем младенце
Солнце и дождик,
Сиянье и мгла.
Туман опустился,
Померкла луна.
Кого родила она?
Мальчика, мальчика.
А как назвали?
Мойшелэ, Мойшелэ.
А в чём качали Мойшелэ?
В люльке.
А чем кормили?
Хлебом да луком.
А где схоронили?
В могиле.
Ой, мальчик в могиле, в могиле!
Мойшелэ, в могиле, ой!
A text in Yiddish (יידיש) from Volkslieder (Folksongs), "Zun mit a regn", Jewish folk poetry. Translation to Russian by Tatyana Aleksandrovna Spendiarova.
Заботливые мама и тётя
Бай, бай, бай,
В село, татуня, поезжай!
Привези нам яблочко,
Чтоб не болеть глазочкам!
Бай.
Бай, бай, бай,
В село, татуня, поезжай!
Привези нам курочку,
Чтоб не болеть зубочкам!
Бай.
Бай, бай, бай,
В село, татуня, поезжай!
Привези нам уточку,
Чтоб не болеть грудочке!
Бай.
Бай, бай, бай,
В село, татуня, поезжай!
Привези нам гусочку,
Чтоб не болеть пузочку!
Бай.
Бай, бай, бай,
В село, татуня, поезжай!
Привези нам семечек,
Чтоб не болеть темечку!
Бай.
Бай, бай, бай,
В село, татуня, поезжай!
Привези нам зайчика,
Чтоб не болеть пальчикам!
Бай.
A text in Yiddish (יידיש) from Volkslieder (Folksongs), "Shlof, shlof, shlof!", Jewish folk poetry. Translation to Russian by Andrey Pavlovich Globa.
Колыбельная
Мой сынок всех краше в мире -
Огонёк во тьме.
Твой отец в цепях в Сибири,
Держит царь его в тюрьме!
Спи, лю-лю, лю-лю!
Колыбель твою качая,
Мама слёзы льёт.
Сам поймёшь ты подрастая,
Что ей сердце жжёт.
Твой отец в Сибири дальней,
Я нужду терплю.
Спи покуда беспечально, а,
Лю-лю, лю-лю, лю-лю!
Скорбь моя чернее ночи,
Спи, а я не сплю.
Спи, хороший, спи, сыночек, спи,
Лю-лю, лю-лю, лю-лю.
A text in Yiddish (יידיש) from Volkslieder (Folksongs) , "Shlof mayn kind, mayn kind, mayn sheyner", Jewish folk poetry. Translation to Russian by V. Zvyagintseva.
Перед долгой разлукой
Сопрано
Ой, Абрам, как без тебя мне жить!
Я без тебя, ты без меня -
Как нам в разлуке жить?
Тенор
А помнишь, в воротах со мной стояла -
Что по секрету ты мне сказала?
Ой, ой, Ривочка, дай твой ротик, девочка!
Сопрано
Ой, Абрам, как мне жить теперь?
Я без тебя, ты без меня, -
Ой, как без ручки дверь!
Тенор
А помнишь, гуляли с тобой мы в паре -
Что мне сказала ты на бульваре?
Ой, ой, Ривочка, дай твой ротик, девочка!
Сопрано
Я без тебя, ты без меня, -
Как нам без счастья жить?
A text in Yiddish (יידיש) from Volkslieder (Folksongs), "Oy, Avrom, ich ken on dir nit zayn!", Jewish folk poetry. Translated to Russian by Andrey Pavlovich Globa
Предостережение
Слушай, Хася!
Нельзя гулять,
Не смей гулять,
С любым гулять,
Опасайся, опасайся!
Пойдёшь гулять,
До утра гулять, ой,
Потом наплачешься,
Хася! Слушай! Хася!
A text in Yiddish (יידיש) from Volkslieder (Folksongs), "Her zhe, Khasia", Jewish folk poetry. Translated to Russian by Nikolay Nikolayevich Ushakov
Брошенный отец
Альт
Эле-старьевщик, надел халат.
К приставу дочка ушла, говорят
Тенор
Цирелэ, дочка, вернись к отцу,
Дам тебе платьев нарядных к венцу.
Цирелэ, дочка,
Серьги и кольца куплю тебе сам.
Цирелэ, дочка,
И на придачу красавчика дам.
Цирелэ, дочка!
Альт
Не надо мне нарядов,
Не надо мне колец,
Лишь с господином приставом
Пойду я под венец.
Господин пристав,
Прошу вас, скорее
Гоните в шею
Старого еврея.
A text in Yiddish (יידיש) from Volkslieder (Folksongs) , "Elie der shenker zitst in khalat", Jewish folk poetry. Translated to Russian by S. Mar.
Песня о нужде
Крыша спит на чердаке
Под соломой сладким сном.
В колыбельке спит дитя
Без пелёнок, нагишом.
Гоп, гоп, выше!
Ест коза солому с крыши.
Гоп, гоп, выше!
Есть коза солому с крыши, ой!
Колыбель на чердаке,
Паучок в ней ткёт беду.
Радость мою сосёт,
Мне оставив лишь нужду.
Гоп, гоп, выше!...
Петушок на чердаке,
Ярко-красный гребешок.
Ой, жена займи для деток
Хлеба черствого кусок.
Гоп, гоп, выше!...
A text in Yiddish (יידיש) by B. Shafir, "Af dem boydem shlaft der dakh", Jewish folk poetry. Translated to Russian by B. Semyonov.
Зима
Лежит моя Шейндл в кровати,
И с нею ребёнок больной.
Ни щепки в нетопленой хате,
А ветер гудит за стеной.
А....
Вернулись и стужа, и ветер,
Нет силы терпеть и молчать.
Кричите же, плачьте же, дети,
Зима воротилась опять.
А....
A text in Yiddish (יידיש) from Volkslieder (Folksongs), "Es ligt in bet Sheyndl, mayn Sheyndl", Jewish folk poetry. Translated to Russian by B. Semyonov
Хорошая жизнь
О поле просторном, друзья дорогие,
Песен не пел я в годы глухие.
Не для меня поля расцветали,
Не для меня росинки стекали.
В тесном подвале во тьме сырой
Жил я когда-то, измучен нуждой.
И грустная песня неслась из подвала
О горе, о муке моей небывалой.
Колхозная речка, струись веселее;
Друзьям передай мой поклон поскорее.
Скажи, что в колхозе теперь мой дом,
Цветущее дерево стоит под окном.
Теперь для меня поля расцветают,
Меня молоком и мёдом питают.
Я счастлив, а ты расскажи моим братьям:
Колхозным полям буду песни слагать я!
A text in Yiddish (יידיש) from Volkslieder (Folksongs), "Vegn rokhves fun felder", Jewish folk poetry. Translated to Russian by Semyon Olender.
Песня девушки
На лужайке, возле леса,
Что задумчив так всегда,
Мы пасём с утра до ночи,
Колхозные стада.
И сижу я на пригорке,
С дудочкой сижу своей.
Не могу я наглядеться
На красу страны моей.
В яркой зелени деревья
И красивы, и стройны
А в полях цветут колосья,
Прелести полны.
Ой, ой, лю-лю!
То мне ветка улыбнётся
Колосок вдруг подмигнёт, -
Чувство радости великой
В сердце искрою сверкнёт.
Пой же, дудочка простая!
Так легко нам петь вдвоём!
Слышат горы и долины,
Как мы радостно поём!
Только, дудочка не плакать!
Прошлую забудь печаль.
И пускай твои напевы
Мчатся в ласковую даль.
Ой, ой, лю-лю!
Я в своём колхозе счастлива.
Слышишь, жизнь моя полна!
Веселее, веселее, дудочка,
Ты петь должна!
A text in Yiddish (יידיש) from Volkslieder (Folksongs), "Af a lonke ba dem veldl", Jewish folk poetry. Translated to Russian by Semyon Olender.
Счастье
Я мужа смело под руку взяла,
Пусть я стара, и стар мой кавалер.
Его с собой в театр повела,
И взяли два билета мы в партер.
До поздней ночи с мужем сидя там,
Всё предавались радостным мечтам, -
Какими благами окружена
Еврейского сапожника жена.
И всей стране хочу поведать я,
Про радостный и светлый жребий мой:
Врачами, наши стали сыновья -
Звезда горит над нашей головой!
A text in Yiddish (יידיש) from Volkslieder (Folksongs), "Ikh hob mayn man genumen unter hant", Jewish folk poetry. Translated to Russian by Lev Dligach.Lament for a Dead Child
Sun and rain,
Light and darkness.
The fog has set in;
the moon has grown dark.
To whom did she give birth?
To a boy.
And what did they name him?
Moyshele.
And where did they rock Moyshele?
In a cradle.
And what did they feed him?
Bread and onions.
And where did they bury him?
In a grave.
Oy, little boy in the grave!
Moyshele, in the grave. Oy!
English translation by Damien Francoeur-
Krzyzek
The Thoughtful Mother and Aunt
Bye, bye, bye,
Off to the village, Daddy!
Bring us an apple
So our eyes won’t hurt!
Bye.
Bye, bye, bye,
Off to the village, Daddy!
Bring us a chicken
So our teeth won’t hurt!
Bye.
Bye, bye, bye,
Off to the village, Daddy!
Bring us a duck
So our chest won’t hurt!
Bye.
Bye, bye, bye,
Off to the village, Daddy!
Bring us a goose
So our belly won’t hurt!
Bye.
Bye, bye, bye,
Off to the village, Daddy!
Bring us some seeds
So our head won’t hurt!
Bye.
Bye, bye, bye,
Off to the village, Daddy!
Bring us a rabbit
So our fingers won’t hurt!
Bye.
English translation by Damien Francoeur-
Krzyzek
Lullaby
My son, the most beautiful in all the world,
A little flame in the darkness.
Your father is in chains in Siberia;
The Tsar is keeping him in prison.
Sleep, loo-loo.
Rocking your cradle,
Mommy sheds her tears.
When you are older you will understand
that her heart is burning.
With your father in faraway Siberia,
I suffer such misery.
Sleep without sadness or care,
Loo-loo.
My sorrow is blacker than the night;
Sleep, while I cannot.
Sleep, my good boy, sleep, my little son,
Sleep, loo-loo.
English translation by Damien Francoeur-
Krzyzek
Before a long separation
Soprano:
Oy, Abraham, how can I live without you?
I without you, you without me —
How can we live in separation?
Tenor:
But remember, when we were standing at the gate, the secret that you told me?
Oy, Rivotchka, give me your little mouth, my girl!
Soprano:
Oy, Abraham, how can I live now?
I without you, you without me —
Oy, like a door without a handle!
Tenor:
But remember, when we were walking on the boulevard, what you said to me?
Oy, Rivotchka, give me your little mouth, my girl!
Soprano:
Do you remember when I wore that red skirt?
Oy, how beautiful I was then!
English translation by Damien Francoeur-
Krzyzek
A Warning
Listen, Hasja!
You mustn’t go walking,
you dare not go walking,
walking with anyone;
Beware!
If you go out walking,
walking until morning, oy!
You will weep later,
Hasja! Listen! Hasja!
English translation by Damien Francoeur-
Krzyzek
The Forsaken Father
Alto:
Elye the ragman put on his robe.
They say his daughter went to marry an officer.
Tenor:
Tsirele, my daughter, come back to your father!
I will give you elegant gowns for your wedding.
Tsirele, my daughter,
I will buy you earrings and rings,
Tsirele, my daughter,
And give you a good-looking man.
Tsirele, my daughter!
Alto:
I have no need of finery;
I have no need of rings,
And only with the officer
will I be married.
Sir Officer,
Quickly, I pray you!
Throw out
This old Jew.
English translation by Damien Francoeur-
Krzyzek
Song of Misery
The roof sleeps atop the attic,
beneath the straw with a sweet dream.
In the cradle sleeps a child,
Stark naked.
Hop, hop, higher!
A goat is eating straw from the roof.
Hop, hop, higher!
A goat is eating straw from the roof. Oy!
The cradle is in the attic;
Inside it, a spider weaves misfortune.It sucks away my happiness,
leaving me only misery.
Hop, hop, higher!...
The rooster is in the attic,
with a crest of bright red.
Oy, dear wife, borrow a piece
Of stale bread for the children.
Hop, hop, higher!...
English translation by Damien Francoeur-
Krzyzek
Winter
My Sheyndl lies in bed;
a sick baby lies with her.
Not a sliver of wood to heat our hut,
and the wind moans outside.
The bitter cold and wind have returned;
There’s no strength to suffer in silence.
Scream and weep then, children;
Winter has returned again.
English translation by Damien Francoeur-
Krzyzek
A Good Life
Of spacious fields, dear friends,
I did not sing in years now remote.
The fields did not bloom for me;
The dewdrops did not flow for me.
In the damp darkness of a cramped cellar
I once lived, exhausted by misery,
and a sad song of my unprecedented grief
and torment wafted from the cellar.
River of the kolkhoz, flow joyfully;
Bring my greetings to my friends.
Tell them that the kolkhoz is now my home;
a blossoming tree stands beneath my window.
Now the fields bloom for me;
they feed me with milk and honey.
Tell my brothers that I am happy,
and I write songs to the kolkhoz fields!
English translation by Damien Francoeur-
Krzyzek
Song of a young girl
In a glade near the forest,
pensive as ever,
from morning to night
we tend the kolkhoz herds.
And I sit on a hill
with my little pipe.
I cannot get enough
of my country’s beauty.
The trees grow bright green,
beautiful and shapely.
The wheat blooms in the fields,
so full of charm.
Oy, oy, loo-loo!
A branch smiles to me;
The stalks wink at me —
A feeling of great joy
flashes sparks in my heart.
Sing then, simple flute!
How easy for us to sing together!
The mountains and valleys listen
as we sing so joyfully!
Do not weep though, my flute!
Forget the sadness of the past
and let your songs rush tenderly
into the distance.
Oy, oy, loo-loo!
At my kolkhoz I am happy.
Listen, my life is full!
Ever more joyfully, little flute,
you must sing!
English translation by Damien Francoeur-
Krzyzek
Happiness
I boldly took my husband by the arm,
though I am old and my gentleman is old.
I took him with me to the theatre,
and we got two tickets to the show.
Sitting there late into the night with my husband, we indulged in joyful dreams —
What blessings surround
the wife of a Jewish shoemaker.
And I want to tell the whole country about my bright, happy fate:
Our sons have become doctors —
A star shines over our head!
English translation by Damien Francoeur-
Krzyzek
Artists- Elaine Daiber, soprano
- Ana Mora, alto
- Samuel Rosner, tenor
- Marie-Elise Boyer, piano