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THE STONEHILL
JEWISH SONG
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Catalog#: Stonehill0016
Title: Tokhterl du Mayns (My dear Daughter )  
Transcription: Miriam Isaacs
Translation: Miriam Isaacs

Information: A father-daughter dialog song. This is traditional between mothers and daughters, and is about the conflict about arranged marriages.



1. Tate: Vozhhe vaynstu Reyzele (sheyndele) tokhterl du mayns?
Dayne hayse trerelekh firn mikh tsum bang.
Dayne hayse treralekh, zoln geyen tsu got.
Zog mir tokhter, far a tatn iz nitu dayn sod.

2. Tokhter: Oy vey tate, got getrayer,
oyf mayn hertsn es brent ayn fayer.
Epes vi far kishef volt geven. 
Epes hot mit mir getrofn.
Ikh ken nit esn, ikh ken nit shlofn.
Zog mir tate vos mit mir vet zayn?
Zog mir tate vos mit mir vet zayn?

3. Tate: Efsher tut vay dos kepele, tokhterl du mayn?
Efsher a bays oygele, ken oykh meglikh zayn.
Do in nakht, shadkhonimlekh raysn ayn di tir.
Du vest mit mazl a kale vern mit ayn groysn gevir.

4. Tokhter: Oy vey tate, ikh vel antloyfn,  Ikh vel far gelt zikh nisht farkoyfn,
Es hot zikh mir a bukherl erklert.
(Tateynu )Yosele vos, voynt danebn. on im ken ikh nisht lebn.
Em nor lib ikh er nor mir gefelt, em nor lib ikh er nor mir gefelt.

5. Tate: Vozhe redstu Sheyndele, Toktherl du mayns.
Yosele der shnayder ying, er dayn man zol zayn.
Du vest bay im dokh hingern, laydn noyt un payn.
…?? un geyen tantsn, un a groshn gelt.

6. Tokhter: Vus mir gelt vos mir hinger?
Ikh bin yung er iz a yinger.
Groys vet zayn bay uns di klenste shtib.
Mit trikn broyt veln mir zikh nern.
Yosele vet mayner vern.
Du vayst nisht tate, vos ayn libe hayst. 
Du vayst nisht tate vos ayn libe hayst.

7. Tate: Ikh vays, ikh vays oy sheyndele, tokhterl du mayns.
Oyfgedekt an altn vint tif in herts arayn.
Oyfgedekt an anltn vint, yorn yorn lang
vest dokh nisht dermanen, tit dos harts nokh vay.

8. Tokhter: Oy vey tate, got getraye.
Brenen zolgn zay vi ayn fayer
Di vos hobn oysgeklert dos gelt.
Tatenyu ikh hob antshlosn, Yosele vet zayn mayn khosn.
Em nor lib ikh er nor mir gefelt.
Em nor lib ikh er nor mir gefelt.

1. Father: Reyzele my daughter why are you crying?
Your hot tears are making me sad.
Your hot tears should go to God.
Tell me daughter, you can keep no secrets from a father.

2. Daughter: Oy dad, God.
There is a fire in my heart.
Something has bewitched me.
Something has met with me.
I cannot eat, I cannot sleep.
What will be with me, dad?

3. Father: Perhaps your head hurts, my dear daughter?
Perhpas you have an evil eye on you.  
There in the night matchmakers are breaking down the door.
With luck you will become a bride to a rich man.

4. Daughter: Dad, I will run away.
I will not sell myself for any money.
He declared his love to me.
Joey, who lives nearby, I can cannot exist without him.
I can only love him and only he can make me happy.
I can only love him and only he can make me happy.

5. Father: What are you talking about Sheyndele, my daughter?
Joey, the tailor boy, he should be your husband?
You will starve with him and be sorry.
You will be dancing without a penny.

6. Daughter: What do you mean hunger?
I am young and he is young.
We will live on a crust of bread.
The smallest place will seem large to us.
Joey will be mine.
Dad, you do not know what love is.
Dad, you do not know what love is.

7. Tate: Ikh vays, ikh vays oy sheyndele, tokhterl du mayns.
Oyfgedekt an altn vint tif in herts arayn.
Oyfgedekt an altn vint, yorn yorn lang
vest dokh nisht dermanen, tit dos harts nokh vay.

7. Father: I know, I know oh Sheyndele, my daughter.
You have awakened an old wind deep in my heart.
You have awakened in me an old wind of years ago
which I try not to remember, it hurts my heart still.

8. Tokhter: Oy vey tate, got getraye.
Brenen zolgn zay vi ayn fayer
Di vos hobn oysgeklert dos gelt.
Tatenyu ikh hob antshlosn, Yosele vet zayn mayn khosn.
Em nor lib ikh er nor mir gefelt.
Em nor lib ikh er nor mir gefelt.

8. Daughter: Oh dad. God in heaven.
May those burn in hell
who invented money. 
Dad, I have decided that Joey will be my groom.
I love only him and want only him. 
I love only him and want only him. 

 

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