This is an old revision of this page, as edited by Artoria2e5(talk | contribs) at 00:27, 10 April 2018(mark out "nagants" by, uh, multiple invocations of named ref). The present address (URL) is a permanent link to this revision, which may differ significantly from the current revision.
Revision as of 00:27, 10 April 2018 by Artoria2e5(talk | contribs)(mark out "nagants" by, uh, multiple invocations of named ref)
"Zog nit keyn mol" (Never Say; Yiddish: זאָג ניט קיין מאָל) or "Partizaner lid" (Partisan Song) is a Yiddish song considered one of the chief anthems of the Holocaust survivors and is sung in memorial services around the world.
History
The lyrics of the song were written in 1943 by Hirsh Glick, a young Jewish inmate of the Vilna Ghetto. The title means "Never Say", and derives from the first line of the song. Glick's lyrics were set to music from a pre-war Soviet song written by Pokrass brothers, Dmitri and Daniel, "Терская походная" (Terek Cossacks' March Song), also known as "То не тучи - грозовые облака" (Those aren't clouds but thunderclouds), originally from the 1937 film I, Son of Working People (story by Valentin Kataev).
zog nit keyn mol, az du geyst dem letstn veg,
khotsh himlen blayene farshteln bloye teg.
kumen vet nokh undzer oysgebenkte sho,
s'vet a poyk ton undzer trot: mir zaynen do!
fun grinem palmenland biz vaysn land fun shney,
mir kumen on mit undzer payn, mit undzer vey,
un vu gefaln s'iz a shprits fun undzer blut,
shprotsn vet dort undzer gvure, undzer mut!
s'vet di morgnzun bagildn undz dem haynt,
un der nekhtn vet farshvindn mit dem faynt,
nor oyb farzamen vet di zun in dem kayor –
vi a parol zol geyn dos lid fun dor tsu dor.
dos lid geshribn iz mit blut, un nit mit blay,
s'iz nit keyn lidl fun a foygl oyf der fray,
dos hot a folk tsvishn falndike vent
dos lid gezungen mit naganes in di hent.[1]
to zog nit keyn mol, az du geyst dem letstn veg,
khotsh himlen blayene farshteln bloye teg.
kumen vet nokh undzer oysgebenkte sho –
s'vet a poyk ton undzer trot: mir zaynen do!
Never say that there is only death for you,
Though leaden skies may be concealing days of blue.
Because the hour we have hungered for is near,
Beneath our tread the earth shall tremble: we are here!
From lands so green with palms to lands all white with snow.
We shall be coming with our anguish and our woe,
And where a spurt of our blood fell on the earth,
There our courage and our spirit have rebirth!
The early morning sun will brighten our day,
And yesterday with our foe will fade away,
But if the sun delays and in the east remains,
This song as motto generations must remain.
This song was written with our blood and not with lead,
It's not a little tune that birds sing overhead,
This song a people sang amid collapsing walls,
With pistols in hand[1] they heeded to the call.
So never say that there is only death for you,
Though leaden skies may be concealing days of blue.
Because the hour we have hungered for is near,
Beneath our tread the earth shall tremble: we are here!
Never say that you have reached the very end,
When leaden skies a bitter future may portend;
For sure the hour for which we yearn will yet arrive,
And our marching step will thunder: we survive!
From green palm trees to the land of distant snow,
We are here with our sorrow, our woe,
And wherever our blood was shed in pain,
Our fighting spirits now will resurrect again.
The golden rays of morning sun will dry our tears,
Dispelling bitter agony of yesteryears,
But if the sun and dawn with us will be delayed,
Then let this song ring out to you the call, instead.
Not lead, but blood inscribed this bitter song we sing,
It's not a caroling of birds upon the wing,
But 'twas a people midst the crashing fires of hell
That sang this song and fought courageous till it fell.
So never say that you have reached the very end
Though leaden skies a bitter future may portend
Because the hour which we yearn for will arrive
And our marching step will thunder: We survive!
Miriam Schlesinger translation
Never say the final journey is at hand
Never say we will not meet the Promised Land,
The longed-for hour shall come, oh never fear!
Our tread drums forth the tidings - we are here!
From land of palm-tree to the far-off land of snow,
We shall be coming with our torment and our woe.
And everywhere our blood has sunk into the earth,
Shall our bravery, our vigor blossom forth!
We’ll have the morning sun to set our day aglow,
And all our yesterdays shall vanish with the foe,
And if the time is long before the sun appears,
Then let this song go like a signal through the years.
This song was written with our blood and not with lead;
It’s not a song that birds sing overhead,
It was a people, among toppling barricades,
That sang this song of ours with pistols and grenades.
So never say that there is only death for you.
Leaden skies may be concealing days of blue -
Because the hour we have hungered for is near;
Beneath our tread the earth shall tremble: We are here!
^ abcThe actual words used are "with nagants in the hand", a reference to the Nagant M1895 pistol, widely used in the early Soviet Union and having a reputation for ruggedness
Fisher, Adam. An Everlasting Name: A Service for Remembering the Shoah. West Orange, NJ: Behrman House, 1991.
Kalisch, Shoshana and Barbara Meister. Yes, We Sang! Songs of the Ghettos and Concentration Camps. New York: Harper & Row, 1985.