A yor ersht nokh mayn khasene
Un zet vi kuk ikh oys,
Taynet a yung vaybele un khlipet shtark.
Oy gute, libe shvesterlakh,
Dem sod zog ikh aykh oys,
Az a man iz nor a tsore oyfn kark.
Geven bin ikh a meydele,
A freylekhe, gor moyredik,
Geshtift mit yunge laytelekh hob ikh dan,
Haynt bin ikh a yidene,
Shvakh un more-shkhoyredik,
Un ales vayl ikh hob gevolt a man.
Er darf a lebn makhn bloyz,
Un ikh, oy, vos bin ikh nit in hoyz?
Oy, a vayb un a damele,
A dinst un oykh a mamele,
Ales, ales kumt dokh on mit shverer noyt,
Oy, es iz keyn kleynikeyt,
Ikh shver aykh bay a reynikeyt,
Az beser iz tsu blaybn gor a moyd.
-----------------------------------------
Vu zenen mayne glikn,
Vos ikh hob mikh geyogt?
Getroymt fun "nokh der khasene,"
Gehoft oyf glik!
A man hob ikh gekrogn
Oyf sonim nor gezogt,
A shod vos khapn ken ikh nit tsurik!
Gemeynt hob ikh avade
Lib hot mikh mayn tayerer,
Ikh hob dokh im azoy fil mi gekost,
Kh'vel lebn nokh der khasene gliklekher, frayerer,
Tsum sof hot zikh a boydem oysgelozt!
Nokh eyder kh'hob mikh arumgezen,
Ikh ken dokh shoyn mer in gas nit geyn!
Bashert fun G-t a zibele,
A kind groys vi a tsibele,
Fun dem kleynem nefeshl hob ikh dem toyt,
A katerl, a hustele,
Es veynt un tsit dos brustele,
Az liber iz tsu blaybn gor a moyd!
---------------------------------
Der man kumt zikh tsum greytn,
Vos veys er vi ikh layd,
Er est zikh op di vetshere
Un dreyt zikh oys,
Ikh dertseyl im mayne tsores,
Nor khotsh mit meser shnayd,
Dos kind vil er nit nemen oyfn shoys!
Geyt shtendik in teater
Un nemt a "sit" a tayern,
Dokh mikh mit zikh mitnemen vil er nish'
Kh'bin, zogt er, nor bashafn
Tsum vashn un tsum shayern,
Tsum kokhn un derlangen alts tsum tish.
Koym shray ikh, er zol on mir nit geyn,
Nu, heyst er mir shrayen oyf der tseyn.
Er khapt zayn hut, zayn shtekele,
Un lozt mikh mit dem brekele,
Ikh zing a troyer nigele fun heler hoyt.
Es veynt un shrayt dos pitsele,
Do helft keyn vort, keyn shmitsele,
Oy, liber iz tsu blaybn gor a moyd!
My thanks to Sandra Layman for teaching me this tune on the fiddle and helping me find lyrics and recordings, and Yankl Falk for providing the lyrics.
From "Songs of Generations",
the 3rd volume of
Yiddish folksongs compiled by Chana and Yosl Mlotek
CLICK
TO PLAY (midi file)
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YorNochMaynKhasene2.nwc
Can be played and score viewed on NoteWorthy
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Sound clip from Kapelye's first album Lifshe Schaechter-Widman, "Az
di furst avek" cassette on Global Village. PLAY
English Translation (from "Songs of Generations"):
It's just a year after my wedding and see how I look! complains a young wife, sobbing loudly -- O good and dear sisters of mine, I'll tell you the secret: A man is just a pain in the neck. I was once a happy girl, lively and flamboyant, I flirted with the young men then. Today I am an old married wife and quite depressed, and all because I wanted a husband.
He only has to make a living. And I, what don't I do in the house? A wife and a lady, a servant and also a mother. Everything is so hard for me. It's not just a little thing, I swear it by the Holy Book. Better to have stayed unmarried.
Where are my joys? Why did I rush into it so fast? I dreamed of the time after the wedding and hoped for joy. The husband I got I wouldn't wish on my enemies. Too bad I can't go back into the past! I thought that surely my dear one loved me well. After all, I cost him so much effort, that after the wedding I'd live more freely and happily. But all my hopes come to naught.
Before I even looked around, I could no longer go outside the house. God soon gave me a little one, a baby as big as an onion. The little creature is the death of me. A cold, a cough, he cries and tugs my breast. It's far better to stay a single girl! My husband comes home when the meal's all prepared. What does he know of how I suffer? He eats his supper and turns away. I tell him my troubles but it's like talking to the wall. He won't take the baby onto his lap.
He always goes to the theater and buys an expensive ticket. But he doesn't
want to take me too, oh no! I was, he says, created just for washing and
scouring, for cooking and serving things to the table. If I start to yell:
Don't go without me! he tells me to yell all I want -- he won't pay any
attention. He grabs his hat and walking cane and leaves me with the infant.
I sing a sad tune from the bottom of my heart. The little one cries and
screams. Neither words nor spanking helps. Oh! Better to stay a single
girl!