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                                                                                                                                          A Brivele Der Mamen
                                                                                                           Music and Lyrics  S.Shmulevicha (1868-1943)

Picture
Songwriter, lyricist, bard, actor, badkhn (wedding entertainer),balladeer, and early recording singer Solomon Shmulevitsh [a.k.a. Small] was born in Minsk, Belarus. In 1889 he immigrated to the United States. He was one of the most prolific and talented of the early Yiddish composers who fashioned a type of Yiddish counterpart to American popular song around the turn of the
19th–20th century and in the immediately ensuing years. He wrote a profusion of songs (words and music) and many lyrics for other songwriters. Song is related to the mass exodus of Jews from the Russian Empire during the pogroms and   persecution. A brivele der mamen (A Little Letter to Mama) is one of the longest-running and schmaltziest tissue-soaking tearjerkers in the aggregate repertoire of sentimental American Yiddish popular song. Solomon Shmulevitsh wrote and first published this song in 1907, at a time when its lyrics resonated with considerable boom in the hearts of many immigrants who had left parents behind in Europe. They knew that they would probably never see them again and that letters would be their only form of communication.


 

Yiddish
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 brivele shik, 
Dayn mames harts, mayn kind, derkvik 

Refrain
A brivele der mamen
Zolstu nit farzamen
Shrayb geshvind, mayn lib 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
Kayn eyntsik briv bakumen
Vi ken mayn kind nokh hobn mut?
Vi geyt im ayn dos lebn
Ez mus im geyn dort zeyer gut

Vil er kayn nakhnikht gebn
Kh'hob im geshikt a hundert briv,
Un er hot nokh kayn shum bagrif,
Az mayne shmertsn zenen zeyer tif. 

Refrain 
In shtot New York, a raykh hoyz
Mit hertser, on gefiln
Dort voynt ir  zun er lebt gor groys
Mit a gliklekhe familye
A sheyne froy, un kinder tsvey
Mit likhtike geshtaltn
Un az er zitst un kvelt fun zey
Hot er a briv derhaltn
Dayn muter toyt! Es iz geshen,
In lebn hostu ir farzen,

Dos iz ir leste vuntsh geven
A kidishl der mamen
Zolstu nit farzamen 
Zog geshvind mayn lib kind
Shenk ir di nekhome
Di mame vet dayn kadishl hern
In ir keyver gern
Heylst ir shmertz ir biter harts 
Derkvikst ir di neshome





English
My child, my comfort, you're going away
Please be a good son
With tears and trembling
Your dear, faithful mother begs you
You're going away my one and only child
Across the distant seas
Arrive there safely and in good health
And don't forget your mother
Yes, go in health and with good fortune
And be sure to write a letter each week
To delight your mother's heart 

Refrain
A letter to your mother
Don't delay
Write soon, my beloved child,
And give her solace
Your mother will read your letter 
And she will be comforted
You'll heal her pain and her aching heart 
And revive her spirits 

Eight years now, I've been alone
My child has wandered far away
His childish heart is hard as stone
I've not received a single letter
How can he still have courage?
How has life treated him?
He must be well of

And doesn't want me to know
I've sent a hundred letters
And he hasn't the slightest notion
How deep my grief is 

Refrain 
In New York City, a wealthy home
Full of hearts without pity
There lives her child in luxury
With his happy family
A beautiful wife, two children
With radiant faces
And as he sits and beams with joy
He receives a letter
Your mother is dead! It has come to pass
In life you neglected her
This was her last wish
Say Kaddish for your mother

Don't delay
Say it soon, my beloved child,
And give her solace 
Your mother will hear your kadish
In her grave gladly
You'll heal her pain and her bitter heart
And revive her spirits