yv/poetry/leivick/2

		THE MUSEUM OF FAMILY HISTORY presents its
		YIDDISH VINKL POETRY CORNER

The Translations of Leo Dashefsky

H. LEIVICK

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You can read English translation of poems written by some of the more popular and well-known Yiddish writers within this exhibition, courtesy of the late Leo Dashefsky z"l who produced each one of the translations that are being made available to you here.

The poems listed are but a small number of the total of poems translated by Leo Dashefsky; perhaps more will be made available for your perusal in the future.

Currently, you may read a short biography of each of the poets, as well as one or more of their translations. The original Yiddish is not included here, though if anyone possesses a copy of a particular poem in Yiddish, it may be sent to the Museum via e-mail so that it may be added alongside the English translation. If you have the original Yiddish-language version, please contact the Museum at postmaster@museumoffamilyhistory.com.

Please read the lovely dedication of Leo's daughter Batya which is being presented to you as a PowerPoint presentation.

ETERNAL

(Aibik)

by H. Leivick

The world embraced me with thorny hands of woe,

And carried me to the fire, and carried me to the stake;

I burn and I burn and that I am not consumed amazes the foe,

I rise once again and stride ever onward.

I labored in workshops and succumbed to wheels of stress,

With renewed vigor I halted the power

I lie down like a new foundation without duress

I rise once again and stride every onward.

I put on a harness and work like a horse,

And a raging horseman lashes me fiercely,

Like a sharp plough I turn over the soil with force.

I rise once again and stride ever onward.

I sow my songs like kernels are sown in the morn,

They sprout, they grow like corn and herbs;

And I alone like down like a twisted thorn,

I rise once again and stride every onward.

I live in a prison, I break open the door,

In their happiness the liberated trample over me.

And I am left bleeding on the threshold floor

I rise once again and stride ever onward.

Drenched in blood are my clothes -- I barely drag my feet,

I come with love from the last purgatory;

I come to a hut and fall on the stairs in the street --

I rise once again and stride every onward.

"Two Silver Goblets" >>