נו, זאָגט אַלײַן,
Well, say yourself,
Work 291 of 440
Page 348. 'Mayn goldene fremd' conclusion: the speaker is paradoxically open to strangers — 'ikh bin far aykh aza ofener — ayerer' (I am for you such an open one — yours). He asks 'ver ken mikh do?' (who knows me here?), yet blows 'likhtike fayern fun fintstern tint' (bright fires from dark ink) over their faces — poetry as gift to strangers. He sings 'fun dem vos vet zayn, oykh fun dem vos geven shoyn' (of what will be, also of what already was). In every face he sees 'dem onblik fun der' (the countenance of her) — the distant beloved. His 'goldene fremd' is specifically 'Nyu York' where 'di hant fun mayn benkshaft' (the hand of my longing) leads him 'gas oys, gas ayn' (street out, street in). The poem concludes addressing the distant friend directly: hear from afar how I sing to you 'oyf Nyu Yorker gasn fun mayn goldener fremd' (on New York streets from my golden foreignness). The 'goldene fremd' unites immigrant alienation with artistic freedom.
נו, זאָגט אַלײַן,
איז דאָס ניט מאָדנע,
וואָס איך בין פֿאַר אײַך אַזאַ אָפֿענער — אײַערער?
מענטשן, מענטשן —
ווער קען מיך דאָ?
און איר זענט פֿאַר מיר
אַזוינע אויך פֿרעמדע:
און זעט, ס׳איז אַזאַ גליק — צו זײַן אַ ווינט,
פֿונאַנדערצובלאָזן
איבער אײַערע פּנימער
ליכטיקע פֿײַערן פֿון פֿינצטערן טינט.
מענטשן, מענטשן —
ס׳איז מיר פֿריילעך צו זינגען,
פֿון דעם וואָס וועט זײַן, אויך פֿון דעם וואָס געווען שוין:
אָבי זײַן מיט אײַך
אויף אַלע ערדן.
און זען אין אײַך
דעם אָנבליק פֿון דער,
וועמען איך וועל אפֿשר ווידער ניט זען שוין.
ניט ווײַט און ניט נאָענט,
נאָר דאָ, וואו איך בין
איז שטענדיק מײַן גאָלדענע פֿרעמד, קען זײַן:
אָט דאָ אין ניו יאָרק,
וואו די האַנט פֿון מײַן בענקשאַפֿט
פֿירט מיך אָרום גאַס אויס, גאַס אײַן
פֿון פֿרי ביז אָוונט,
ווי איבער גלעזערנע טרעפּ —
איבער גאַסן און בריקן, צו דיר געווענדט — — —
הער־צו פֿון דערווײַטן:
מײַן פֿרײַנט געטרײַער,
ווי איך זינג צו דיר
אויף ניו יאָרקער גאַסן פֿון מײַן גאָלדענער פֿרעמד.
Nu, zogt aleyn,
iz dos nit modne,
vos ikh bin far aykh aza ofener — ayerer?
Mentshn, mentshn —
ver ken mikh do?
Un ir zent far mir
azoyne oykh fremde:
un zet, s'iz aza glik — tsu zayn a vint,
funandertsubloзn
iber ayere pnimer
likhtike fayern fun fintstern tint.
Mentshn, mentshn —
s'iz mir freylekh tsu zingen,
fun dem vos vet zayn, oykh fun dem vos geven shoyn:
obi zayn mit aykh
oyf ale erdn.
Un zen in aykh
dem onblik fun der,
vemen ikh vel efsher vider nit zen shoyn.
Nit vayt un nit noent,
nor do, vu ikh bin
iz shtendik mayn goldene fremd, ken zayn:
ot do in Nyu York,
vu di hant fun mayn benkshaft
firt mikh arum gas oys, gas ayn
fun fri biz ovnt,
vi iber glezerne trep —
iber gasn un brikn, tsu dir gevendt — — —
her-tsu fun dervayt:
mayn fraynt getreyer,
vi ikh zing tsu dir
oyf Nyu Yorker gasn fun mayn goldener fremd.
Well, say yourself,
isn't it strange,
that I am for you such an open one — yours?
People, people —
who knows me here?
And you are for me
also such strangers:
and see, it is such happiness — to be a wind,
to blow away
over your faces
bright fires from dark ink.
People, people —
it is joyful for me to sing,
of what will be, also of what already was:
just to be with you
on all lands.
And to see in you
the countenance of her,
whom I will perhaps never see again.
Not far and not near,
but here, where I am
is always my golden foreignness, perhaps:
right here in New York,
where the hand of my longing
leads me around street out, street in
from morning till evening,
like over glass steps —
over streets and bridges, turned toward you — — —
listen from afar:
my loyal friend,
how I sing to you
on New York streets from my golden foreignness.
Page 348. 'Mayn goldene fremd' conclusion: the speaker is paradoxically open to strangers — 'ikh bin far aykh aza ofener — ayerer' (I am for you such an open one — yours). He asks 'ver ken mikh do?' (who knows me here?), yet blows 'likhtike fayern fun fintstern tint' (bright fires from dark ink) over their faces — poetry as gift to strangers. He sings 'fun dem vos vet zayn, oykh fun dem vos geven shoyn' (of what will be, also of what already was). In every face he sees 'dem onblik fun der' (the countenance of her) — the distant beloved. His 'goldene fremd' is specifically 'Nyu York' where 'di hant fun mayn benkshaft' (the hand of my longing) leads him 'gas oys, gas ayn' (street out, street in). The poem concludes addressing the distant friend directly: hear from afar how I sing to you 'oyf Nyu Yorker gasn fun mayn goldener fremd' (on New York streets from my golden foreignness). The 'goldene fremd' unites immigrant alienation with artistic freedom.
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