Oyfn Veg Shteyt a Boym
Oyfn veg shteyt a boym,
Shteyt er ayngeboygn,
Ale feygl funem boym
Zaynen zikh tsefloygn.
Dray keyn mayrev, dray keyn mizrekh,
Un der resht - keyn dorem,
Un dem boym gelozt aleyn
Hefker far dem shturem.
Zog ikh tsu der mamen: -her,
Zolst mir nor nit shtern,
Vel ikh, mame, eyns un tsvey
Bald a foygl vern...
Ikh vel zitsn oyfn boym
Un vel im farvign
Ibern vinter mit a treyst
Mit a sheynem nign.
Zogt di mame: - nite, kind -
Un zi veynt mit trern -
Vest kholile oyfn boym
Mir far froyrn vern.
Zog ikh: -mame, s'iz a shod
Dayne sheyne oygn
Un eyder vos un eyder ven,
Bin ikh mir a foygl.
Veynt di mame: - ltsik, kroyn,
Ze, um gotes viln,
Nem zikh mit a shalikl,
Kenst zikh nokh farkiln.
Di kaloshn tu zikh on,
S'geyt a sharfer vinter
Un di kutshme nem oykh mit -
Vey iz mir un vind mir...
- Un dos vinter-laybl nem,
Tu es on, du shovte,
Oyb du vilst nit zayn keyn gast
Tsvishn ale toyte...
Kh'heyb di fligl, s'iz mir shver,
Tsu fil, tsu fil zakhn,
Hot di mame ongeton
Ir feygele, dem shvakhn.
Kuk ikh troyerik mir arayn
In mayn mames oygn,
S'hot ir libshaft nit gelozt
Vern mir a foygl...
Oyfn veg shteyt a boym,
Shteyt her ayngebogen,
Ale feygl funem boym
Zaynen zikh tsefloygn...
On the Road Stands a Tree
On the road stands a tree,
Standing all bent,
All the birds from the tree
Are flying around.
Three to the west, three to the east,
And the rest - nowhere,
And the tree left alone
Abandoned to the storm.
I say to my mother: -listen,
Don't scold me,
I will, mom, one and two
Soon become a bird...
I will sit on the tree
And bid it farewell
Over the winter with comfort
With a beautiful tune.
Mother says: -no, child -
And she cries with tears -
You will, God forbid, on the tree
Become frozen for me.
I say: -mom, it's a shame
Your beautiful eyes
And whether or not, when,
I am a bird to myself.
Mother cries: -quiet, dear,
See, by God's will,
Take yourself with a scarf,
You can still change.
The boots are on,
A sharp winter is coming
And take the coat too -
Woe is me and find me...
- And take the winter coat,
Put it on, you weak one,
If you don't want to be a guest
Among all the dead...
I lift my wings, it's hard for me,
Too many, too many things,
Mother has called out
Her little bird, the weak one.
I look sadly into
My mother's eyes,
Her love did not allow
Me to become a bird...
On the road stands a tree,
Standing all bent,
All the birds from the tree
Are flying around...