TEREZIN ANTHEM (Yes we can), Karel Schwenk

Those whose songs can overcome a thunderstorm,
who had laughter splashed into their crib
For whom crying for no reason is bad form,
who have known love, who have love to give,
everybody whether thus or otherwise,
who is glad, whatever life they have,
they don’t ever frown because they realize
they can sing on everyone’s behalf:

Ref:
Yes we can if we stand
all together hand in hand,
our hearts full of humor, though the times are brutal,
day to day who can say
when we go or where we stay
and just thirty words are all that we may draft.
Hey ho! In the morning life begins,
the time is coming when
we can pack our little bundles up
and all go home again.
Yes we can if we stand
all together hand in hand
you and I and he and all of us will laugh.
[on the ruins of the ghetto we will laugh.]

Those who miss the mother city, and for whom
coffee with their turnips isn’t grand,
those whose spirits rise up when they hear Czech tunes,
those who slave till they can hardly stand,
everybody whether thus or otherwise,
though not happy this is all they have,
they can always find a way to harmonize
when we sing on everyone’s behalf:

Ref: Yes we can …

Those who live on tier three of a narrow bunk,
whom the shadows of the walls oppress,
those whose wive’s affairs have left them in a funk
all those whom the barrack blues depress,
everybody, those who hope or who despair
even they might catch a sunbeams’s shaft,
tries to walk a little straighter when they hear
Terezin’s march play on their behalf:

Ref: Yes we can …
on the ruins of the ghetto we will laugh.

Translation by Martin Rocek

Berjoskele

Calmly, calmly shakes her curly green little-head
my cute-little-white little-birch-tree and prays without an end;
every, every little-leaf of-hers whispers quietly a prayer.
-- be-already little little-birch-tree pray you for me!
From-the far west has itself sadly stolen
in your thin little-branches a rose-colored, tender ray-of-light,
and a lightly kissed made the little-leaves those tiny-ones,
who have dozing-off listened to-the nightingale.
From the wide field has a tiny-breeze come
and told-to the little-leaves legends without an end,
Something has in heart deeply to me come (to)yearn
Please be-already little little-birch-tree, pray you for me

Margarithelech

In little-forest by-the little-river there they grew
daisies lonesome and small
like tiny-little suns with little-white rays
with little-white Tra-la-la-la!
going is little-Chava quiet and wrapped-up-in-dreams,
flowing the golden-blonde locks
the little-neck bare and whispers sung
a little-song. Tra-la-la-la!
the sun has gone-down, the boy (has)disappeared
and little-Chava sits still in forest.
she looks in the distance and whispers dreamily
this little-song: tra-la-la-la.

A Mejdel in die Johren

I am already a little-girl in the old-age,
why have-you my the head spun-around?
I would have-already long a bride become
and maybe indeed wedding had.
You have me promised to take,
and I have for you waited;
why should-you, little-dear-one, me to-shame.
Why have-you you in me made-a-fool?

Lie down my son, lie down restfully
Do not cry bitterly
Your mother is sitting next to you
Guarding against any evil

The jackal wails outside in the forest
And the wind is blowing there
Lie down my son, like down restfully
Sleep, sleep, slumber

Night, night, night shadow
Will fly very quickly
You mustn’t, mustn’t, mustn’t be lazy
Tomorrow it is necessary to work

Tomorrow father will go out to plough
In the farrow, father will walk
Only you my little son
Sleep, sleep, slumber