Uncle Jazzbeau’s Gallimaufrey

the wolf, part 1

Here is the first installment of roughly 23 of the H. Leivick poem:

der volf
(1920. a khronik.)

... un es iz geven oyfn dritn frimorgn,
ven di zun iz oyfgegangen in mizreykh-zayt
iz fun der gantser shtot shoyn nisht geblibn kayn zeykher.

un di zun iz geshtign alts hekher un hekher,
biz vanen zi iz tsugekumen tsum mitn himl,
un ire shtraln hobn zikh bagegnt mit dem rovs oygn.

un der rov iz gelegn oyf a barg ash un shtayner
mit a tsenoyfgefrestn moyl un oysgeglotste shvartsaplen,
un in zayn neshome iz geven shtil un fintster un mer gornisht.

un ven zayne oygn hobn derfilt oyf zikh di hayse shtraln
hobn zay zikh fanandergeshprayt un gekukt un gekukt,
biz vanen zayn guf hot ongehoybn zikh rirn un oyfkumen.

un ven der rov hot zikh oyfgeshtelt un derzen,
az er iz ibergeblibn eyner aleyn in an oysgehargeter shtot
az shuln un az yidn un az vayb un kinder—
hot der rov nisht gevust vos tsu ton.

First draft translation:

The Wolf
(1920. A chronicle.)

... and it was on the third morning,
when the sun arose in the East
there remained of the whole town not a trace.

And the sun climbed higher and higher,
until it had come to the middle of the sky,
and its rays met with the rabbi’s eyes.

And the rabbi was lying on a mountain of ash and stones
with a ravenous mouth and staring pupils,
and in his soul there was silence and darkness and nothing more.

And when his eyes sensed the hot rays
they opened wide and looked and looked
until his body had begun to stir and awaken.

And when the rabbi had stood up and saw
that he was the only one left in the massacred town
synagogues and Jews and women and children—
the rabbi did not know what to do.