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בּאַבּי יאַר

Shike Driz / שיקע דריז
Page de la chanson avec toutes les versions


La versione inglese di Aaron Kramer
BABIJ JAR

Avrei certo appeso
la culla a una trave
e cullato, cullato
il mio bimbo, il mio Yankl.

Ma la capanna in fiamme
è bruciata via;
come posso cullarlo
il mio bimbo adorato?

Avrei certo appeso
la culla a un alberello,
e cullato, cullato
il mio bimbo, il mio Shleyml.

Ma non mi è rimasto
un filo del suo cuscino,
neanche mi è rimasta
una stringa delle sue scarpe.

Mi sarei tagliato
i miei lunghi cernecchi,
e ci avrei appeso
la culla come a un albero.

Ma non so dove cercare
ora le loro ossa,
le ossa adorate
dei miei due bambini.

Avrei certo appeso
la culla a un alberello,
e cullato, cullato
il mio bimbo, il mio Shleyml.

Aiutatemi, mamme,
a tirarmi fuori una melodia,
aiutatemi, mamme,
a cullare il Babij Jar.
BABI-YAR

I'd have picked the right beam
For a crib to be swung on
And have cradled and cradled
My Yankel, the young one.

But in fire and flame
The hut fell to ashes;
Where then am I to rock
My boy, my precious?

To nettles, thorn and thistles
The village road surrenders;
The hushed white doves
Have been transformed to cinders.
*

I'd have chosen a tree;
My cradle would have hung there;
I'd have taken my Shloimel,
Sung him and sung there;

But I've not one thread
Of his pillow-case,
And of his shoes
Not so much as a lace.

Not a twig, not a leaf...
The hearty oak
Is a heap of coals
That smolder and smoke...
*

I'd have cut off my braids,
Completely undone them,
And have hung my darlings'
Cradle upon them;

But I don't know where
They are now, the bones -
The priceless bones
Of my two little sons.

Help me, mothers, help me
Tear the music from my breast!
Help me, mothers, help me
rock Babi-Yar to rest!

*These verses are not sung in the musical version.


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