POETRY
Vilne Shtot fun Gayst un Tmimes versus Una Furtiva Lagrima.
Ghil'ad Zuckermann
I would like to suggest that the beautiful music of VILNE was modelled upon that of UNA FURTIVA LAGRIMA,
composed a century earlier. Please note that Jews in Vilne/Vilna knew BEL CANTO operas.
VILNE (1935)
Lyrics: A. L. Wolfson (1867-1946)
Music: Alexander Olshanetsky (1892-1946)
Vilne, shtot fun gayst un tmimes
Vilne, yidishlekh fartrakht,
Vu es murmlen shtile tfiles,
Shtile soydes fun der nakht.
Oft mol ze ikh dir in kholem,
Heys-gelibte vilne mayn,
Un di alte vilner geto
In a nepldikn shayn.
Vilne, vilne, undzer heymshtot,
Undzer benkshaft un bager.
Akh, vi oft es ruft dayn nomen
Fun mayn oyg aroys a TRER.
Vilner geslekh, vilner taykhn,
Vilner velder, barg un tol.
Epes noyet, epes benkt zikh
Nokh di tsaytn fun amol.
´Kh ze dem veldele zakreter
In zayn shotn ayngehilt,
Vu geheym es hobn lerer
Undzer visndursht geshtilt.
Vilne hot dem ershtn fodem
Fun der frayheyts-fon gevebt
Un di libe kinder ire
mit a tsartn gayst balebt.
Vilne, vilne, undzer heymshtot,
Undzer benkshaft un bager.
Akh, vi oft es ruft dayn nomen
Fun mayn oyg aroys a TRER.
Vilner geslekh, vilner taykhn,
Vilner velder, barg un tol.
Epes noyet, epes benkt zikh
Nokh di tsaytn fun amol.
UNA FURTIVA LAGRIMA (1832)
(L'Elisier D'amore)
Lyrics: Felice Romani (1788-1865)
Music: Gaetano Donizetti (1797-1848)
Una furtiva LAGRIMA
negli occhi suoi spuntò.
Quelle festose giovani
invidiar sembrò.
Che più cercando io vo?
Che più cercando io vo?
M'ama; sì, m'ama; lo vedo,
lo vedo.
Un solo istante i palpiti
del suo bel cor sentir!
I miei sospir confondere
per poco a' suoi sospir!
I palpiti, i palpiti sentir!
Confondere i miei co' suoi sospir!
Cielo! si può morir,
di più non chiedo,
non chiedo.
Cielo! si può, si può morir,
di più non chiedo,
non chiedo.
Si può morir,
Si può morir
d'amor!
VILNA (VILNIUS)
(Translation from Yiddish into English)
Vilna, city of spirit and innocence.
Vilna, conceived in Jewish ways,
where soft prayers are murmured,
soft nocturnal secrets.
I often see you in my dreams,
my dearly beloved Vilna,
and the old Vilna ghetto
in a foggy glow.
Vilna, Vilna, our hometown,
our longing and desire.
Ah, how often your name
brings a TEAR to my eye!
Vilna streets, Vilna rivers,
Vilna forests, mountains and valleys.
Something gnaws at me, makes me yearn
for the days of long ago.
I see the Zakret forest,
enveloped in its shadows,
where teachers secretly slaked
our thirst for knowledge.
Vilna sewed the first thread
in our flag of freedom
and inspired its children
with a gentle spirit.
Vilna, Vilna, our hometown,
our longing and desire.
How often your name
brings a TEAR to my eye!
Vilna streets, Vilna rivers,
Vilna forests, mountains and valleys.
Something gnaws at me, makes me yearn
for the days of long ago.
A SUDDEN FURTIVE TEAR
(translation from Italian into English)
A sudden furtive TEAR
appeared in her eyes.
It seemed to envy
those cheerful youths.
What more should I be looking for?
What more should I be looking for?
She loves me; yes, she loves me; I see it!
I see it!
For just one moment to sense
the throbs of her beautiful heart!
To mingle my sighs
just a little with her sighs.
The throbs, to sense the throbs!
To mingle my sighs with hers!
Heavens, I could die,
I ask for no more,
for no more.
Heavens, I could, I could die,
I ask for no more,
for no more.
I could die,
I could die
of love!
