Oyfn veg shteyt a boym, steyt er ayngeboygn;
Ale feygl funem boym zaynen zikh tsefloygn:
Dray keyn mizrekh, dray keyn mayrev, un di resht - keyn dorem,
Un dem boym gelozt aleyn, hefker farn shtorem...
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 sheinem nign.
Zogt di mame: Nite, kind! - Un zi veynt mit trern.
- Kenst, kholile, oyfn boym mir farfroyrn nern...
Zog ikh: - Mame, s`iz a shod dayne sheyne oygn -
Un eyder vos, un eyder ven bin ikh mir a foygl...
Veynt di mame: - Itsik kroyn, ze, um Gotes viln,
Nem zikh mit a shalikl - zolst zikh nisht farkiln.
Di kaloshn tu zikh on - s`geyt a shafer vinter;
Un di kutshme nem oych mit, vey iz mir un vind mir!..
Un dos vintl-laybl nem, tu es on, du shoyte,
Oyb du vilst nisht zayn keyn gast tsvishn ale toyte...
Kh`heyb di fligl - s`iz mir shver, tsu fil, tsu fil zakhn
Hot di mame ongeton dem feygele, dem shvachn...
Kuk ikh troyerik mir arayn in mayn mames oygn -
S`hot ir libshaft nisht derlozt vern mikh a foygl...
Oyfn veg shteyt a boym, steyt er ayngeboygn;
Ale feygl funem boym zaynen zikh tsefloygn...
В поле деревце (перевод М.Фаттахутдиновой и Ю.Закона)
В поле деревце одно,
Грустное томится.
И с ветвей его давно
Разлетелись птицы.
Кто к востоку, кто на запад,
Кто подался к югу,
Бросив деревце в полон
Всем ветрам и вьюгам.
Вот, что, мама, я решил, -
Только ты позволь мне:
Здесь на ветке буду жить
Птицею привольной,
Стану петь я деревцу
Весело и звонко,
Убаюкивать его
Нежно как ребенка.
Плачет мама: "Ой, сынок,
Не было бы худа -
Там на ветке, не дай Бог,
Схватишь ты простуду".
"Полно, мама, не рыдай,
Осуши ресницы,
Не пугайся - только дай
Обернуться птицей".
Просит мама: "Птенчик мой,
Погоди немножко:
Шалькой плечики укрой
И надень калошки.
Шапку теплую возьми -
Зимы наши люты -
Ох, явился в этот мир
На печаль мою ты".
Молит мама: "Не шути
С холодом, мой милый,
Коль не хочешь ты сойти
В раннюю могилу".
"Вот взлетаю - тяжело:
К низу тянет ноша,
Не дают взмахнуть крылом
Шалька и калоши.
Видишь, мама, плачу я,
Сил у птицы мало:
"Ах, зачем любовь твоя
Крылья мне связала!"
Снова деревце одно
И тоской томится -
Ведь с ветвей его давно
Разлетелись птицы.
On the road stands a tree (Jewish folk song)
On the road stands a tree,
it stands bent and deserted,
All the birds of that tree
have flown away.
Turn toward the west, turn toward the east,
And the rest - turn toward the south,
And the tree is left alone
abandoned to the storm.
I say to momma--"Listen,
If you don't stand in my way,
then, one and two,
I'll quickly become a bird...
I'll sit in the tree
And lull it
during the winter and comfort it
With a lovely tune.
And momma says, "No, child,"
And weeps bitter tears -
G-d forbid, in the tree
you might freeze.
So I say, "Momma, it's a waste
of your lovely eyes,
Because before you know it,
I'll be a bird."
And momma cries: - Itzik, my Crown,
As G-d would want,
take a scarf with you,
Lest you catch cold.
"Put on your galoshes,
It will be a severe winter.
And take your fur hat, too.
Woe is me!
"And take your warm underwear,
put it on, foolish child,
Lest you become a guest
among the dead...
I lift my wing, but it's hard...
Too much, too many things
Has momma put on
her weak little fledgling.
I look sadly straight forward
into my momma's eyes,
Her love did not allow me
to become a bird...
On the road stands a tree,
it stands bent and deserted,
All the birds of that tree
have flown away.
Oyfn veg shteyt a boym, steyt er ayngeboygn;
Ale feygl funem boym zaynen zikh tsefloygn:
Dray keyn mizrekh, dray keyn mayrev, un di resht - keyn dorem,
Un dem boym gelozt aleyn, hefker farn shtorem ...
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 sheinem nign.
Zogt di mame: Nite, kind! - Un zi veynt mit trern.
- Kenst, kholile, oyfn boym mir farfroyrn nern ...
Zog ikh: - Mame, s`iz a shod dayne sheyne oygn -
Un eyder vos, un eyder ven bin ikh mir a foygl ...
Veynt di mame: - Itsik kroyn, ze, um Gotes viln,
Nem zikh mit a shalikl - zolst zikh nisht farkiln.
Di kaloshn tu zikh on - s`geyt a shafer vinter;
Un di kutshme nem oych mit, vey iz mir un vind mir! ..
Un dos vintl-laybl nem, tu es on, du shoyte,
Oyb du vilst nisht zayn keyn gast tsvishn ale toyte ...
Kh`heyb di fligl - s`iz mir shver, tsu fil, tsu fil zakhn
Hot di mame ongeton dem feygele, dem shvachn ...
Kuk ikh troyerik mir arayn in mayn mames oygn -
S`hot ir libshaft nisht derlozt vern mikh a foygl ...
Oyfn veg shteyt a boym, steyt er ayngeboygn;
Ale feygl funem boym zaynen zikh tsefloygn ...
The tree field (translation M.Fattahutdinovoy and Yu.Zakona)
In the tree one
Sad languishing.
And with his long branches
Scattered birds.
Who to the east, people in the West,
Who moved to the south,
Throwing tree in full
All the winds and blizzards.
That's what, Mom, I thought -
Just you let me:
Here at the branch will live
Birds Privolny,
I will sing, I sapling
Fun and loud,
lull him
Gentle as a child.
Crying mother: "Oh, my son,
Would not it be a blessing -
There, on a branch, God forbid,
You grab a cold. "
"Come, mother, do not weep,
I will dry up the eyelashes,
Do not be afraid - just give
Turn into a bird. "
Asks mother: "My little bird,
Wait a bit:
Schalke shoulders ukroy
And put on your clogs.
Take a warm hat -
Winter our rency -
Oh, I came to this world
On my sadness you. "
Mom pleads: "Do not joke
With the cold, my dear,
Kohl does not want you to get off
In an early grave. "
"Here I take off - hard:
By pulling the bottom of the burden,
Do not give the swing wing
Schalke and galoshes.
Look, Mom, I'm crying,
Forces the bird is not enough:
"Oh, why did your love
Wings tied me! "
Again, one tree
And sadly languishing -
After all, with its branches for a long time
Scattered birds.
On the road stands a tree (Jewish folk song)
On the road stands a tree,
it stands bent and deserted,
All the birds of that tree
have flown away.
Turn toward the west, turn toward the east,
And the rest - turn toward the south,
And the tree is left alone
abandoned to the storm.
I say to momma - "Listen,
If you do not stand in my way,
then, one and two,
I'll quickly become a bird ...
I'll sit in the tree
And lull it
during the winter and comfort it
With a lovely tune.
And momma says, "No, child,"
And I weep bitter tears -
G-d forbid, in the tree
you might freeze.
So I say, "Momma, it's a waste
of your lovely eyes,
Because before you know it,
I'll be a bird. "
And momma cries: - Itzik, my Crown,
As G-d would want,
take a scarf with you,
Lest you catch cold.
"Put on your galoshes,
It will be a severe winter.
And take your fur hat, too.
Woe is me!
"And take your warm underwear,
put it on, foolish child,
Lest you become a guest
among the dead ...
I lift my wing, but it's hard ...
Too much, too many things
Has momma put on
her weak little fledgling.
I look sadly straight forward
into my momma's eyes,
Her love did not allow me
to become a bird ...
On the road stands a tree,
it stands bent and deserted,
All the birds of that tree
have flown away. | |
