The times., 1899-01-01
A Jewish Book of Poems.

Songs from the Ghetto.' by Morris
Rosenfeld. has attracted great deal OF
attention in the last few weeks. for more
than one reason. In the first place, it is
the work of a young man of the Jewish
race, and is published in Yiddish and
English, which makes it unique to the
general public. More than this, the songs
are the work OF real post, and have
been q delight to the critic seeking some
thing fresh and unhackneyed. Mr.. Ro-
senfeld has seen much of the seamy side
of life, for he has worked in the Eng isb
and American sSeat-shops, after boy
hood spent in the more healthful but sti
toilsome life of fisherman This little
book is a fresh illustration of the fact
that some of our best songs must always
be lL-songs-melodies straight from the
heart OF the people who work for their
daily bread and have few pleasures and
many sorrows.
The book contains the Yiddish version
on one page and the English translation on
the next. The latter is in prose. and while
the thought is preserved with fair success,
the haunting sweetness of the rhythm IS
of course lost For the benefit of readers
who nave never chanced to read anything
in Yiddish it may be stated that this Ian
r.
form of German. and that the songs are
perfectly readable in their original form
to any one who understands some German
and ayails himself of the English transla-
tion now and then. There is a brief ex-
PLANTATION of the peculiarities of the Llthu-
anian dialect of Yiddish at the beginning OF
the book. and at the end is glossary.
quotation of one of the shorter poems i'll
the original and in English will show how
much is lost in translation:
U DER KANARIK
Is t1iilert der Kanarik
In fteien Wald allein--
Wer kann sein Ssimche fuhlen?
Wer kann sein Freud varstehn?
rs Tiilert der Kanaik
In reichsten Palaz schoen-
Wer kann sein Wehtag fuhleH?
Wer kann sein Sehme;z varstehn?
fTrans.ationI
The canary MARBLES alone in the free forest: who
can feel his joy, who can understand his pleas
uFe?
The canary MARBLES in the richest palace sweet
ly: who can feel his sorrow, who can understand
his pan2
1t viii be seen at once that the exquisite
simplicity and melody OF the original
makes half its charm, and that this sim
piicity becomes badness and emptiness
when put into English. Another poem
note, is "Whither?" of which the transla-
ton is as follows:
Whittier. whittier, petty child? The wcrd is
not vet open! Oh, see how quie; it IS all aroundi
'Tis before daybreak, the streets arc mutei
Whittier whittier do you hurry? 'Tis now good
to sleep-and, Do you see, the flowers are stiii
| a-dreamiug; every birds nest is still silent.
, Whittier, pray. are you driven now? Whittier do
you hurry--teIl me-and what to do?-''To earn
a Iiving!"
Whittier, whittier, pretty child, walking 50
late at night2 Aons through the darkness and
cold! And everything is at rest-the world is 81
lent. Whittier docs the wind carry you? You
will yet lose your way Scarcely has day smiled
on you-how can the night help yOug For it is
mute, and deaf, and blind. Whittier, whittier,
with easy mind!-'To earn liying."
This loses even more in translation than
the song quoted above. The poems are in
three classes, the songs OF labor, national
songs, and miscellaneous bits of verse.
Many poets lose in their more ambitious
| and patriotic efforts the unity and force of
| tnought which make their shorter poems
attractive. Not SO this young Hebrew.
His most ambitious work is in the patriot
| songs, and it is IN these that some OF his
| deepest thought and most powerful eX-
| preston is to be found. The intense pa
| thos and patience Of the Jewish race un-
| der centuries of oppression have never
| found more adequate expression. The
| Songs of Labor" are not quite SO sad. but
| In every one of them there is a pathetic
| note. tphere are only one or two poems
| in the whole book from which this sad
| ness is absent. Nevertheless, the poems
| are delightful reading, and should be pos
| sessed by every one who cares for the
| artistic expression of human thought and
emotion. Boston: Copeland G Day