Paroles et traduction Sarah Ber - Oif'n veg shtait ah boim

Oif'n veg shtait ah boim

Oyfn veg shteyt a boym, steyt er ayngeboygn;
Ale feygl funem boym zaynen zikh tsefloygn:
Dray keyn mizrekh, dray keyn mayrev, un di resht - keyn dorem,
Un dem boym gelozt aleyn, hefker farn shtorem...
Zog ikh tsu der mamen: - her, zolst mir nor nit shtern,
Vel ikh, mame, eyns un tsvey, bald a foygl vern...
Ikh vel zitsn oyfn boym un vel im farvign,
Ibern vinter mit a treyst, mit a sheinem nign.
Zogt di mame: Nite, kind! - Un zi veynt mit trern.
- Kenst, kholile, oyfn boym mir farfroyrn nern...
Zog ikh: - Mame, s'iz a shod dayne sheyne oygn -
Un eyder vos, un eyder ven bin ikh mir a foygl...
Veynt di mame: - Itsik kroyn, ze, um Gotes viln,
Nem zikh mit a shalikl - zolst zikh nisht farkiln.
Di kaloshn tu zikh on - s'geyt a shafer vinter;
Un di kutshme nem oych mit, vey iz mir un vind mir!.
Un dos vintl-laybl nem, tu es on, du shoyte,
Oyb du vilst nisht zayn keyn gast tsvishn ale toyte...
Kh'heyb di fligl - s'iz mir shver, tsu fil, tsu fil zakhn
Hot di mame ongeton dem feygele, dem shvachn...
... ikh troyerik mir arayn in mayn mames oygn -
S'hot ir libshaft nisht derlozt vern mikh a foygl...
Oyfn veg shteyt a boym, steyt er ayngeboygn;
Ale feygl funem boym zaynen zikh tsefloygn...

On the Road Stands a Tree

On the road stands a tree, it stands bent over;
All the birds from the tree have flown away:
Three to the east, three to the west, and the rest - to the south,
And the tree left alone, abandoned to the storm...
I say to mother: - listen, don't scold me,
I will, mother, in a blink, soon become a bird...
I will sit on the tree and comfort it,
Through the winter with a solace, with a beautiful song.
Mother says: No, child! - And she cries with tears.
- You could, God forbid, freeze to death on the tree...
I say: - Mother, it's a pity for your beautiful eyes -
But no matter what, no matter when, I am a bird...
Mother cries: - My crown Itsik, see, for God's sake,
Take a shawl with you - so you don't catch a cold.
Put on your galoshes - a harsh winter is coming;
And take the hat too, woe is me and wind me!.
And take this windbreaker, put it on, you silly,
If you don't want to be a guest among all the dead...
I lift my wings - it's hard for me, too many, too many things
Mother put on the bird, the weak one...
... I look sadly into my mother's eyes -
Her love did not let me become a bird...
On the road stands a tree, it stands bent over;
All the birds from the tree have flown away...