Yiddish Medley by Liberated Wailing Wall

I Am Not Ashamed by Liberated Wailing Wall

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Yiddish Medley
by Liberated Wailing Wall

Album: I Am Not Ashamed

ROJINKES MIT MANDLEN
(Raisins and Almonds)

Yiddish:
In dem Bais Ha Migdash,
In ah inkle cheder,
Zifst dee almoneh bas Tzion alyen.
Eer ben Yohindle Yiddeleh Vigt Seek Seder,
Un zingt eem tzum shlofn,
A lindeleh sheyn: lu, lu, lu, lu.
Unter Yiddeleh's vigeleh,
Shteyt ah klor veis tsigeleh.
Dos tsigeleh's geforn handlen.
Dos vet zein dein be-ruf:
Rojinkes mit mandlen.
Shlufje, Yideleh, shluf.

Translation:
In the house of study and prayer,
There in the corner of of a room,
Sits a Jewish widow all alone,
Rocking her only son steadily to sleep,
Singing him a lullaby.
Under the boy's cradle there stands a clean white goat.
The goat is taken to market,
Where he is traded for raisins and almonds.
Sleep my child sleep.

OYFN PRIPETCHOK
(On The Hearth)

Yiddish:
Oyfn prepetchok brent ah feyerl,
Un in shtub is heys,
Un der rebbeh lernt kleyneh kinderlach,
Dem alephbeys.
Zeytje, kinderlach,
Gedenktje teyereh,
Vos eer lernt duh.
Zugtje noch ah mol,
Un takeh noch ah mol:
Kometz aleph "Uh."
Zugtje noch ah mol,
Un takeh noch ah mol:
Kometz aleph "Uh."

Translation:
On the hearth there burns a fire; the house is warm.
The rabbi teaches the small children the letter of the alphabet.
Pay attention, children to what you learn here.
Repeat again and yet again:
Short A, "uh."

TUM BALALAIKA
(Play Balalaika)

Yiddish:
Narisheh bocher, vos darfstu fregn?
Liebeh ken brenen unnitfarshemen,
Hartz ken benken veynen un trern.
TumBala Tumbala Tumbalalaika,
TumBala Tumbala Tumbalalaika,
Tumbalalaika, shpiel Balalaika,
Tumbalalaika, freilach zol zein.

Translation:
Silly young man, why do you need to ask?
It is a stone that grows without rain,
Love that burns without shame,
And a heart that can yearn, crying without tears.
Play balalaika, and be happy.

MY YIDDISHEH MOMME
(My Jewish Mother)

My Yiddisheh Momme, I need her more than ever now,
My Yissisheh Momme, I long to kiss her wrinkled brow.
I long to hold her hand in mine as in days gone by,
And ask her to forgive me for things I did to make her cry.
How few were her pleasures,
She never cared for fashion style, her jewels and her treasures,
She found them in her baby's smile.
Yes, I know that I owe what I am today,
To that dear lady so old and grey.
To my wonderful Yiddisheh Momme, O Momme mine.