אַזוי איז געשען אין יאַס דער שטאָט
אין טויזנט נײַן הונדערט אַכט.
מײַן טאַטע האָט געזיפֿצט און געוויינט
דעריבער אַ גאַנצע נאַכט –
און איך האָב לזכר פֿון די צוויי
דאָס דאָזיקע ליד געמאַכט.
A Ballad of a Whore and a Slim Hussar
The whore stands by the window and sings,
"Hussar, the slim hussar!
your eyes are sparkling ardently and brightly,
so why are you standing there, you fool?
My breasts are white as snow,
how much will you give for them?"
"A string of beads, as red as blood,
I'll give to you, my child.
Let my hand run across your breasts
like the wind runs
across the silver surface of the river
which blinds it with its shine."
"Your string of beads I do not need,
hussar, the slim hussar,
your eyes are sparkling ardently and brightly,
so why are you standing there, you fool?
My hair is pure gold,
how much will you give for it?"
Says the hussar, "I will give you, my child,
my mother's golden tear
which fell down on my head
on my way to the army.
Take it and open the door,
I've nothing more to give."
The whore takes him by the hand
and brings him into the house.
On the table, a glass jug of wine
is shining red.
The whore stands awhile and looks,
looks narrowly at him.
"My mother's tear has redeemed me.
Didn't you recognize me?
I am your sister, who desecrated and disgraced our home,
and now I squander my sorrow and my body
within these walls."
"If you are my sister, you must pay for this
with your head!"
He hears the Death - the black crow -
tapping and tapping on the window pane.
The knife flickers, and the head
falls down to his feet.
And her head bleeds its words up to him,
"Hussar, the slim hussar!
Your knife and the tear have redeemed me -
thank you, thank you for this."
And her lips died as they said,
"Thank you, thank you, hussar."
-------
This happened in the town of Lasi
in the year of 1908.
My mother sighed and cried
about it all night long,
and I wrote this poem
in memory of these two.
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