by Mark Warschawski
Originally published in the Jewish Daily Forward, the caption said: “Mekhl, a peddler, posing with his horse-drawn cart on a mountain path” (credit: YIVO Institute/People of 1,000 Towns photo catalog)
Click on the title above to hear this wonderful song.
| Oy, vifl yorn zenen farforn | Oh how many years have passed |
| Zayt ikh bin a milner ot to do. | Since I’ve been a miller here? |
| Di reder dreyen zikh | The wheels turn |
| Di yorn geyen zikh, | The years pass |
| Ikh bin shoyn alt un grayz un gro. | I’m growing old and grey. |
| S’iz teg faranen | There are days |
| Ch’vil mikh dermonen | I would have wanted to remember |
| Tsi kh’hob gehat a shtikl glik— | If I had only had a bit of happiness |
| Di reder dreyen zikh | The wheels turn |
| Di yorn geyen zikh | The years pass |
| Keyn entfer iz nit do tsurik. | No reply do I hear |
| Ch’hob gehert zogn | I’ve heard it said |
| Men vel mikh faryogn | They want to drive me out |
| Aroys fun dorf | Away from here |
| Un fun der mil. | And from the mill. |
| Di reder dreyen zikh | The wheels turns |
| Di yorn geyen zikh | The years pass |
| Oy, on an ek un on a tsil. | Without end and without purpose |
| Fun glik fartribn | Exiled from happiness |
| bin ikh geblibn | I remain without it |
| On vayb, on kind ot do aleyn. | Without wife or child–myself alone |
| Di reder dreyen zikh | The wheel turns |
| Di yorn geyen zikh, | The years pass |
| Un eylent bin ikh vi a shteyn. | I am lonely as a stone |
| Vu vel ikh voynen | Where will I live? |
| Ver vet mikh shoynen | Who will care for me? |
| Ikh bin shoyn alt | I’m already old |
| Ich bin shoyn mid — | I’m already tired |
| Di reder dreyen zikh | The wheels turn |
| Di yorn geyen zikh, | The years pass |
| Un oykh mit zey geyt oys der yid. | And with them too goes the Jew. |
translated by Richard Silverstein
(with initial assistance from Jenny Levison’s translation at Zemerl)
I’d never heard this song until 1983, when my brother introduced me to Zupfgeigenhansel’s wonderful version of it on Jiddische Lieder. It is an extraordinary allegory about the pain and suffering of exile in the face of Czarist-inspired anti-Semitic pogroms in the early years of the 20th century. Few songs capture the deep sadness and longing for a life lost than this one. Zupfgeigenhansel’s version is beautifully understated with the soft, lilting strains of the mandolin as it solos between verses.
