ישׂראליק
Leyb Rozental [Leib Rosenthal] / לײב ראָזענטאַל| Altra traduzione inglese da Smithsonian Folkways | |
| MY NAME IS YISROLIK | MY NAME IS YISROLIK |
| Hey, come and buy tobacco, Come buy my saccharin, These days the stuff is selling cheap as dirt. A life for just a penny, One cent is what I earn -- About the ghetto peddler you have heard? | Here, buy my cigarettes and buy my saccarin, Merchandise is very cheap these days - A life is worth e penny, and profit's but a penny, These are the ghetto-businessmen, you know. |
| My name is Yisrolik, A kid right from the ghetto, My name is Yisrolik, A reckless kind of guy. Though I'm left with less nothing, Still a whistle and song is my reply! | My name is Yisrolik, I'm the child of the ghetto, I'm called Yisrolik, — a free and easy lad. And although I'm "clean" and haven't got a thing - I still can whistle and I still can sing! |
| A coat without a collar, Underwear made from a sack, I have galoshes -- haven't got the shoes. Whoever finds this funny, Whoever dares to laugh -- I'll show him I'm not one to abuse! | My coat it has no collar and my trousers are for sacking, I wear rubbers since I've lost my shoes. But whoever dares to laugh at my appearance, I'll show him a thing or two, you bet! |
| My name is Yisrolik, A kid right from the ghetto, My name is Yisrolik, A reckless kind of guy. Though I'm left with less nothing, Still a whistle and song is my reply! | Now don't you think that I was born into a life of squalor, I once was loved and raised my mother and father too, But I lost them both and don't think that was funny - And I was left alone just like the homeless wind that blows. |
| Don't think the gutter spawned me, Don't think I have no claim -- A mother and a father loved me too. Both were taken from me, It's useless to complain, But like the wind I'm lonely, it is true. | My name is Yisrolik, I'm the child of the ghetto, I'm called Yisrolik, — a free and easy lad. And although I'm "clean" and haven't got a thing - I still can whistle and I still can sing! |
| My name is Yisrolik, And when no one is looking, From my eyes I wipe away a tear. But this anguish -- Is not for speaking. Why remember, How much can one heart bear? | I am called Yisrolik and when nobody's locking, I wipe away my tears so silently, But it is much better not to speak about my sorrow, To mention it just makes my heart ache more. |
