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A brivele der mamen

Artist: Solomon Shmulewitz
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First posted by: yidlid.org

Transliteration

mayn kind, mayn treyst, du forst avek, ze, zay a zun a guter, dikh bet mit trern un mit shrek dayn traye libe muter. du forst, mayn kind, mayn eyntsik kind, ariber vayte yamen. akh kum ahin nor frish gezunt, un nit farges dayn mamen! yo, for gezunt un kum mit glik, ze, yede vokh a brivl shik - dayn mames harts, mayn kind, derkvik. a brivele der mamen zolstu nit farzamen, shrayb geshvind, libes kind, shenk ir di nekhome. di mame vet dayn brivele lezn un zi vet genezn, heylst ir shmerts, ir biter harts, derkvikst ir di neshome! dos akhte yor, ikh bin aleyn, dos kind iz vayt farshvumen. dos kindersh harts iz hart vi a shteyn, keyn eyntsik briv bakumen. vi ken mayn kind nokh hobn mut? vi geyt im ayn dos lebn? es muz im geyn dort zeyer gut halevay! zol got im gebn. kh'hob im geshikt a hundert briv, un er hot nokh keyn shum bagrif, az mayne shmertsn zenen zeyer tif. a brivele der mamen zolstu nit farzamen, shrayb geshvind, libes kind, shenk ir di nekhome. di mame vet dayn brivele lezn un zi vet genezn, heylst ir shmerts, ir biter harts, derkvikst ir di neshome! in shtot new york, a raykh hoyz, mit hertser, on rakhmones, dort voynt ir zun -er lebt gor groys mit getlikhe matones, a sheyne froy, un kinder tsvey, mit likhtike geshtaltn, un vi er zitst un kvelt fun zey, hot er a briv derhaltn. dayn muter iz toyt -es iz geshen, in lebn hostu ir farzen, dos iz ir letster vuntsh geven: a kadishl der mamen, zolstu nit farzamen, zog geshvind libes kind. shenk ir di nekhome, di mame vet ir kadishl hern, in ir keyver gern, heylst ir shmertz, ir biter harts derkvikst ir di neshome.

Translation

My child, my comfort, you're going away, See, be a good son, She asks you with tears and fear, Your faithful dear mother. You go, my child, my only child, Across distant seas. Ah, get there fresh and healthy, And don't forget your mummy! Yes, go in good health and arrive happy, See, each week send a letter - Comfort your mothers heart, my child. A letter to mummy, You should not delay, Write soon, dear child, Give her that comfort. Your mummy will read your letter, And she will recover, Heal her pain, her bitter heart, Comfort her mind! For eight years, I've been alone, The child wandered far away. His childish heart is hard as stone, Not a single letter received! How can my child still have courage? How goes for him the life? He must be really all right there, May it be! May god give that to him. I sent him a hundred letters, And he didn't get the notion yet, How deep my grief is. A letter to mummy, You should not delay, Write soon, dear child, Give her that comfort. Your mummy will read your letter, And she will recover, Heal her pain, her bitter heart, Comfort her mind! In New York, a wealthy house, With merciless hearts, There lives her son -he is well off With god's present, A beautiful wife and two children, With bright figures, And as he is sitting and proud of them, He receives a letter. Your mother is dead -it has come to pass, Alive you neglected her, Here is her last wish: A Kaddish for mummy, You should not delay, Say it soon, dear child, Give her that comfort. Your mummy will hear her Kaddish, In her grave eagerly, Heal her pain, her bitter heart, Comfort her mind!