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צו דעם שוואַרצן וואַלד פֿון ווערטער

To the black forest of words

Work 112 of 440

Page 127. 'Ready an Axe' continuation: Go to the black forest of words, brother — destined or not — cut the throat of all words. Words have necks, heads, breasts, braids, blood-soaked in streams. In the redness of streams, dye the axe and crowbar. If you cannot defile bodies, defile at least words — words have hips, loins. Defile and torture until you fall exhausted. Then lie side by side with our name, tired axes and crowbars, brother, brother. A violent poem about the destruction of language itself — words anthropomorphized as bodies to be violated. 'The Dead Watchman' (Der Toyter Shomer): Through no-man's trees sucked into wasteland, the dying watchman's blind eyes burn up. A rider on a red horse galloped through — the blind eyes chase after, farther, farther, until drained out, sucked into wasteland and spun over with thornweb. The watchman sees only in dying, and even then chases what has already passed.

Yiddish Original

צו דעם שוואַרצן וואַלד פֿון ווערטער

לאָז זיך ברודער, —

יאָ באַשערטער, נישט באַשערטער —

שנײַד דעם האַלדז פֿון אַלע ווערטער;

ווערטער האָבן העלדזער, קעפּ,

ווערטער האָבן בריסט און צעפּ,

בלוט־צעזאָדענע אין שטראָמען —

אין דער רויטקייט פֿון די שטראָמען

פֿאַרב די העק און פֿאַרב די לאָמען,

ברודער, ברודער.

אויב דו קענסט קיין לײַבער שענדן —

שענד כאָטש ווערטער:

ווערטער האָבן היפֿטן, לענדן.

שענד און פֿײַניק, ביז פֿון שענדן

וועסטו פֿאַלן שטיל און מיד:

וועלן ליגן שטיל און מיד,

זײַט בײַ זײַט מיט אונדזער נאָמען

מידע העק און מידע לאָמען,

ברודער, ברודער.

דער טויטער שומר

דורך קיינעמסדיקע ביימער

אין דער וויסט אַרײַנגעזויגן,

בײַ דעם שטאַרבנדיקן שומר

ברענען־אויף די בלינדע אויגן:

אין גאַלאָפּ איז דורכגעפֿלויגן

אויף אַ רויטן פֿערד אַ רײַטער,

יאָגן נאָך די בלינדע אויגן

נאָך דעם רײַטער ווײַטער, ווײַטער,

יאָגן נאָך די בלינדע אויגן,

ביז זיי ווערן אויסגערונען,

אין דער וויסט אַרײַנגעזויגן

און מיט דאָרנוועב פֿאַרשפּונען.

Transliteration

Tsu dem shvartsn vald fun verter

loz zikh bruder, —

yo bashertеr, nisht bashertеr —

shnayd dem haldz fun ale verter;

verter hobn heldzer, kep,

verter hobn brist un tsep,

blut-tsezodene in shtromen —

in der roytkayt fun di shtromen

farb di hek un farb di lomen,

bruder, bruder.

Oyb du kenst keyn layber shendn —

shend khotsh verter:

verter hobn hiftn, lendn.

Shend un faynik, biz fun shendn

vestu faln shtil un mid:

veln lign shtil un mid,

zayt bay zayt mit undzer nomen

mide hek un mide lomen,

bruder, bruder.

Der Toyter Shomer

Durkh keynеmsdike beymer

in der vist arayngezоygn,

bay dem shtarbndikn shomer

brenen-oyf di blinde oygn:

in galop iz durkhgeflоygn

oyf a roytn ferd a rayter,

yogn nokh di blinde oygn

nokh dem rayter vayter, vayter,

yogn nokh di blinde oygn,

biz zey vern oysgerunen,

in der vist arayngezоygn

un mit dornveb farshpunen.

English Translation

To the black forest of words

set out, brother —

whether destined or not destined —

cut the throat of all words;

words have necks, heads,

words have breasts and braids,

blood-soaked in streams —

in the redness of the streams

dye the axe and dye the crowbar,

brother, brother.

If you cannot defile bodies —

defile at least words:

words have hips, loins.

Defile and torture, until from defiling

you will fall still and tired:

will lie still and tired,

side by side with our name

tired axes and tired crowbars,

brother, brother.

The Dead Watchman

Through no-man's trees

sucked into the wasteland,

by the dying watchman

the blind eyes burn up:

in a gallop flew through

on a red horse a rider,

the blind eyes chase after

the rider farther, farther,

the blind eyes chase after,

until they are drained out,

sucked into the wasteland

and spun over with thornweb.

TRANSLATOR’S NOTE

Page 127. 'Ready an Axe' continuation: Go to the black forest of words, brother — destined or not — cut the throat of all words. Words have necks, heads, breasts, braids, blood-soaked in streams. In the redness of streams, dye the axe and crowbar. If you cannot defile bodies, defile at least words — words have hips, loins. Defile and torture until you fall exhausted. Then lie side by side with our name, tired axes and crowbars, brother, brother. A violent poem about the destruction of language itself — words anthropomorphized as bodies to be violated. 'The Dead Watchman' (Der Toyter Shomer): Through no-man's trees sucked into wasteland, the dying watchman's blind eyes burn up. A rider on a red horse galloped through — the blind eyes chase after, farther, farther, until drained out, sucked into wasteland and spun over with thornweb. The watchman sees only in dying, and even then chases what has already passed.

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To the black forest of words · H. Leivick: Complete Works · Half-Voll Attempts