Singing 'Old Solomon Levy' - Limmud 2015 Dray Shvester – Three Sisters Lyrics: Morris Winchevsky. Music: Cipe Lincovsky. In England iz do a shtot Lester In London iz do aza skver Tsum skver kumen teglekh dray shvester Dray meydlekh, ver veyst zey nisht ver.

In England is a town called Leicester In London there is a square Daily three sisters would come to the square Three girls, who knows who they are?

Di yingste farkoyft dortn blumen Di eltere bendlekh tsu shikh Un shpeyt in der nakht tut zi kumen Di drite vus handelt mit zikh.

The youngest sells flowers The older sells shoelaces And late in the night comes home The third sister, who sells herself

Di yingere shvester batrakhtn Di eltere shvester on has Nur ale dray shvester farakhtn Di velt un di shtot un di gas

The younger sisters think of The oldest without hatred As all three sisters despise The world, the town and the street

Es brekhn zikh goldene zangn Es drikt zey der shturm tsu dr’erd Es vern di beste farlangn Oyf a zunikn tog oykh tseshtert

The golden stalks are breaking As the storm pushes them to the ground And the purest longings for a sunny day Are becoming annihilated

Un shpeyt in der nakht ven zey kumen Tsum nest vus zey rufn es ‘heym’ Bagisn zey bendlekh un blumen Mit trern vus viln nisht fargeyn

And late at night when they come To their nest they call home The shoelaces and the flowers are drenched With their tears that don’t want to leave them

My home in Morgan street My home in Morgan Street Es iz mir voyl un git Ikh hob mayn eygn shtib Nor shmekt fun farshtinkene fish

My home in Morgan Street It makes me happy, it’s good I have my own room Though it reeks of stinking fish

Dort shteyt a meydl in a kleydl Shrayt ‘zeks a penny beygl Un dem yidl mit zayn fidl Er shpilt zayn violin

There stands a girl in a dress Shouting ‘six a penny baygels’ And a small Jew with his fiddle Is playing the violin

Old Solomon Levy Old Solomon Levy, tralala lalala la Di mame gemakht di kliskes tralala lalala la A froy mit funf kinder kukt aroys fun der vinder Un oy zi krekhtst un oy zi lakht Fun old Solomon Levy

Old Solomon Levy, tralala lalala la The mother is making noodles, tralala lalala la A woman with five children looks out the window And how she moans and laughs At old Solomon Levy

Dem Nayem Hashivenu Nazad – The new ‘take me back home!’ Lyrics: Isaac Lubritski Dort fort a yid shvakh un mid There goes a Jew weak and tired Tsu lebn barit zukht er an ort Looking for a place to live safely. Er antloyft fun tiranay, er vil lebn fray He is escaping tyranny, wants to live free Tsu gebn a shpay of Rusland dort And spit on Tsarist Russia. In england iz gringer, s’iz nishto kayn tiranay In England it’s easier - there is no tyranny. Tsu shtarbn far hunger iz far yedn dort fray Starving from hunger is free for everyone. Kayne tsores felt im oykh nisht, er khapt zey gants He’s not lacking an sorrow - he has enough. genug Er est zikh on mit zey zat He is sated with them. Men hert im nur shrayen vu kumt men tsurik aheym People hear him shout, “How do you get back Hashivenu nazad home? Take me back there.” Er blondzhet arum in London umetum Blind un shtum un shrayt s’iz nisht gut Ikh zey im in gas, zayne oygn zenen nas Zayn ponim iz nas un gegesn hot er nisht A yoykl hot bald derkent az a griner dort geyt Heybt er oyf zayne hent un bavelkomt im mit a fight Do batrakht er zikh yetst az do iz oykh nisht gut Az me ken do gebn aza matnes yad In der frayer medine, shlogt men oykh dem Yid Iz shoyn glaykher Hashivenu Nazad

He wanders around all over London Blind and dumb, and cries “This is no good!” I see him in the street, his moist eyes, His pale face, and he has no food. A thug sees that there’s an immigrant Lifts his hands and welcomes him with a fight And he thinks, “This is also not good, Because even here you get a punch. In the free country people also beat up Jews What’s the point? Take me back there.”

England iz a land vos shetst nur talant Mit a melukhe in der hand zorgt men shoyn nisht Batrakht er der griner, er iz shoyn a fardiner Gevorn a mashiner un im iz shoyn gut In verkshop er zitst bay der danke un dreyt Er horevet, er shvitst, es iz bizi tsayt Di bizi iz avek, opgehorevet a shrek Er geyt arum mid un mad. A raykhe lady iz tsugekumen un git a vunk tsu im “Vilstu epes fardinen? Trogt mit dem basket aheym” Er batrakht di raykhe lady a kleynem oygnblik Tsu fardinen trakht er volt nisht geshat. Nokh tsu dem bin ikh gekumen az dos zol zayn mayn glik Iz shoyn glaykher Hashivenu Nazad

England is a place that values talent. “With a job, you don’t worry” Thinks the greenhorn. He is already an earner. He’s become a machinist and all is good. In the workshop he sits turning the machine He toils and sweats during busy times. But when busy times are over, it all stops And he goes around tired and weary A rich lady comes up and gives him a nod “Do you want to earn something? Carry my basket home!” To earn, he thinks, it wouldn’t hurt “But for this I came here, that this will be my joy? What’s the point? Take me back there.”

Victoria Park Lyrics: Arn Nager London vert yetst shtark geloybt Victoria Park, Victoria Park Ver volt dos gegloybt in Victoria Park A proster gartn ober shtark, Victoria Park, Victoria Park A porter mit a grobn kark in Victoria Park

London is becoming strongly praised, Victoria Park, Victoria Park, Who’d have believed it, in Victoria Park? An clear arranged garden, Victoria Park, A porter with a broad neck, in Victoria Park.

Yeder eyner rut oys di beyner Un falt oyf shteyner un farlirt di tseyner Er ligt un khropet, fun der noz es kapet Me loyft farsopet in Victoria Park.

Everyone is resting their bones And falling on stones and losing their teeth. They lie and snore, their noses dripping And run breathless in Victoria Park.

Yudke geyt mit Rachel zey ‘valk’, Victoria Park, Victoria Park Zi eyn shu un eyn zok, in Victoria Park Nakhman Ber geyt mit zayn vayb, Victoria Park, Victoria Park Landslayt zukhen dort a dzhob in Victoria Park

Yudke walks out with Rachel, Victoria Park She with a shoe, he a sock, in Victoria Park. Nakhman Ber goes with his bride, Victoria Park, People from the old country look for a job, In Victoria Park.

Dort geyt Khayite, a moyd fun Lite Zi iz di dritte, zi voynt in City A royte Benny, di grobe Annie, Di geshtiplte Fanny in Victoria Park.

There goes Khayite, a woman from Lithuania, She is the third and lives in the City. A red-faced Benny, fatty Annie, Poxy Fanny are all in Victoria Park.

A meydl tut zi on tsu geyn, Victoria Park, Victoria Park Ir khosn vill zi dortn zen, in Victoria Park Er ligt oyfn groz, Victoria Park, Victoria Park Oyfgetzoygn vi a hoz in Victoria Park

A girl dresses up to go out to Victoria Park, Her fiancé wants to see her in Victoria Park. He lies on the grass, Victoria Park, Stretched out like a hare, in Victoria Park.

Er heybt on betn un kushn un gletn Ven viln mir hayratn? vos kan dos shatn? Der khosn iz a diker un zi iz a shiker Un zey hobn beyde khasene in Victoria Park.

He begins to kiss her and caress her, begging When will we get married? What does it matter? The groom is fat and she is a drunk, And they get married in Victoria Park!