(זיבן יאָר שוין
(Seven years now
Work 233 of 440
Page 285. 'Sako un Vanzetis mitvokh' continuation. The parenthetical continues: seven years, a 'tantsndike hant' (dancing hand — presumably the executioner's or the court's) instead of paintbrush — death. The speaker acknowledges the futility of the prophetic biblical cry ('your heart harder than steel, forehead of copper' — echoing Ezekiel) in modern times. Address to Massachusetts, Boston: the world warns 'es vet aykh kostn tayer' (it will cost you dearly). Bitter sarcasm toward the 'dray nikhter' (three sober ones) — judge, professor, governor — presiding over the 'nakht ongetrunkener mit gsise' (night drunk with death-throes). Even prison locks cry for stay of execution, but Boston answers 'shtarbn' (die). The Shylock echo: 'dem gantsn funt' (the whole pound) of flesh — Boston as Shylock demanding its pound. The establishment 'kitl' (gown, but also burial shroud) wants only 'dem sharbn' (the corpse).
(זיבן יאָר שוין
נאָכאַנאַנד,
זײַט אַ טאַנצנדיקע
האַנט
אָנשטאָט ברוש —
טויט.)
איך ווייס, איר וועט ניט דערהערן מײַן קול,
אָבער איך מוז אים לאָזן הערן:
איך ווייס אויך, אַז אין הײַנטיקער צײַט
איז אומזיסט צו שרײַען דאָס אַלטע געשריי:
„אוי וויי,
אײַער האַרץ איז האַרטער פֿון שטאָל,
און פֿון קופּער אײַער שטערן
(Zibn yor shoyn
nokhanand,
zayt a tantsndike
hant
onshtot brush —
toyt.)
Ikh veys, ir vet nit derhern mayn kol,
ober ikh muz im lozn hern:
ikh veys oykh, az in hayntiker tsayt
iz umzist tsu shrayen dos alte geshray:
„Oy vey,
ayer harts iz harter fun shtol,
un fun kuper ayer shtern
(Seven years now
in a row,
a dancing
hand
instead of a brush —
death.)
I know you will not hear my voice,
but I must let it be heard:
I know too that in today's time
it is useless to scream the old cry:
"Woe,
your heart is harder than steel,
and of copper your forehead" —
today one must speak with a plain language
with a different fire:
— Massachusetts, Boston —
the whole world cries: it will cost you
dearly, dearly.
Wrap yourself in your mantle, judge,
cover yourself with your pedigree-hat, professor,
smile at your power, governor —
today you are the only three sober
in the night drunk with death-throes,
in the hours when even prison locks
cry out: executioners, stop the execution.
But Boston answers:
Die.
Boston paralyzes itself on its proud gown
with so many points, with so many titles,
and the gown wants nothing but the corpse.
And under the title — cold violence,
and grave-earth — harsh.
The heart of the world begs like a dog,
knocks at the door, but entry is forbidden:
Boston wants the whole sacrifice,
of the sacrifice's flesh the whole pound. —
Page 285. 'Sako un Vanzetis mitvokh' continuation. The parenthetical continues: seven years, a 'tantsndike hant' (dancing hand — presumably the executioner's or the court's) instead of paintbrush — death. The speaker acknowledges the futility of the prophetic biblical cry ('your heart harder than steel, forehead of copper' — echoing Ezekiel) in modern times. Address to Massachusetts, Boston: the world warns 'es vet aykh kostn tayer' (it will cost you dearly). Bitter sarcasm toward the 'dray nikhter' (three sober ones) — judge, professor, governor — presiding over the 'nakht ongetrunkener mit gsise' (night drunk with death-throes). Even prison locks cry for stay of execution, but Boston answers 'shtarbn' (die). The Shylock echo: 'dem gantsn funt' (the whole pound) of flesh — Boston as Shylock demanding its pound. The establishment 'kitl' (gown, but also burial shroud) wants only 'dem sharbn' (the corpse).
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