Words by ltsik Manger (1901-1969), music by Hertz Rubin (1911-1958). Submitted by singer Mascha Benya Matz, who received the song from Genia Manger, the poet’s widow. The version recorded by the late singer David Carrey differs slightly.
I am a little gypsy,
But, as you see, I’m handsome.
Barefoot, hungry and happy,
I live like a prince.
I don’t know here I was born,
My mother lost me in the steppes.
My father was hanged
When he went out to steal.
Refrain:
Oh, you fiddle, you fiddle of mine,
Play my sorrow into their hearts.
Oh, you friend of mine,
Who knows as well as you,
That forever red are
Blood and wine.
From my father I inherited my fiddle
And I play on it: “Diddle, diddle.”
In my fiddling you can hear
My mother’s sorrow and my sister’s tears.
In my fiddle is captured
The story of my father’s hanging.
When they drove him to his death,
The fiddle remained for me.
The song of persecution and the chase,
The song of staying overnight
But not during the day
I am a little gypsy
And I sing like no one else.
Whatever song you want,
You may request from me.
You only have to pay a three-penny
My pain doesn’t cost you very much.
Oh, you fiddle, you fiddle of mine,
Play my sorrow into their hearts.
Oh, you friend of mine,
Who knows as well as you,
That forever red are
Blood and wine.
Kh’bin a tsigaynerl a kleyner,
Ober, vi ir zet, a sheyner,
Borves, hungerik un freylekh,
Leb ikh mir vi a ben-meylekh.
Kh’veys nit vu ikh bin geboyrn,
Mayn mame t’mikh in step farloyrn,
Mayn tatn hot men oyfgehangen,
Ven er iz ganvenen gegangen.
Refrain:
Ekh, du fidl, fidele du mayn,
Shpil mayn troyer tsu zey in harts arayn.
Ekh, du khaver mayn,
Ver veyst vi du aleyn,
Az eybik, eybik, royt iz
Blut un vayn.
Fun tatn geyarshnt hob ikh di fidl,
Shpil ikh oyf ir “didl, didl,”
In mayn fidl kent ir hern
Mayn mames tsar, mayn shvesters trern,
ln mayn fidl ligt gefangen
Vi m’hot mayn tatn oyfgehangen.
Ven tsum toyt m’hot im getribn,
lz di fidl mir geblibn.
Dos lid fun roydefn un yogn,
Dos lid fun nekhtikn, nisht togn,
Kh’bin a tsigaynerl a kleyner,
Kh’zing vi s’zingt nisht keyner, keyner,
Vos far a lid s’vet aykh gefeln,
Kent ir zikh bay mir bashteln,
Batsoln darft ir bloyz a drayer,
S’kost mayn veytik aykh nisht tayer.
Ekh, du fidl, fidele du mayn,
Shpil mayn tsar tsu zey in harts arayn.
Ekh, du khaver mayn,
Ver veyst vi du aleyn,
Az eybik, eybik royt iz
Blut un vayn!
כ’בין אַ ציגײַנערל אַ קלײנער,
אָבער, װי איר זעט, א שײנער,
באָרװעס, הונגעריק און פֿרײלעך,
לעב איך מיר ױ אַ בן-מלך.
כ’װײס ניט װוּ איך בין געבױרן,
מײן מאַמע ט׳מיך אין סטעפּ פֿאַרלױרן,
מײַן טאָטן האָט מען אױפֿגעהאַנגען,
װען עֶר איז גנבענען געגאַנגען.
רעפרײן:
עֹךְ, דו פֿידל, פֿידעלע דו מײַן,
שפֿיל מײַן טרױער צו זײ אין האַרצ אַרײַן.
עך, דו חבֿר מײַן,
װער װײסט װי דו אַלײן,
אַז אײביק, אײיביק, רױט איז
בלוט און װײַן.
פֿון טאַטן געירשנט האָב איך די פֿידל
שפֿיל איך אױף איר ’’דידל, דידל,’’
אין מײַן פֿידל קענט איר הערן
מײַן מאַמעס צער, מײַן שװעסטערס טרערן,
אין מײַן פֿידל ליגט געפֿאַנגען,
װי מ’האָט מײַן טאַטן אױפֿגעהאַנגען,
װען צום טױט מיהאָט אים געטריבן,
איז די פֿידל מיר געבליבן.
דאָס ליד פֿון רודפֿן און יאָגן,
דאָס ליד פֿון נעכטיקן, נישט טאָגן,
כ׳בין אַ ציגײַנערל אַ קלײנער,
כ׳זינג װי ס׳זינגט נישט קײנער, קײנער.
װאָס פֿאַר אַ ליד סיװעט אײַך געפֿעלן,
קענט איר זיך בײַ מיר באַשטעלן,
באַצאָלן דאַרפֿט איר בלױז אַ דרײַער,
סיקאָסט מײַן װײטיק אײַך נישט טײַער.
עך, דו פֿידל, פֿידעלע דו מײַן,
שפּיל מײַן צער צו זײ אין האַרץ אַרײַן,
עך, דו חבֿר מײַן,
װער װײסט װי דו אַלײן,
אַז אײביק, אײיביק רױט איז
בלוט און װײַן!
Song Title: Dos Kleyne Tsigaynerl
The Songs of Generations: New Pearls of Yiddish Song anthology comprises songs that were either never printed before or appeared in rare and inaccessible publications — sometimes in different versions and without proper sources. Most of the songs in this book were submitted by readers of Chana and Yosl’s column “Perl fun der yidisher poezye” (Pearls of Yiddish Poetry) in the Yiddish newspaper Der Forverts (The Forward), initiated in October, 1970. Over 25 years, thousands of songs were collected in correspondence and on cassettes from readers throughout the world, and they represent a veritable national Yiddish song archive. Chana Mlotek, in her introduction, writes, “In the course of years the inquiries, contributions and enthusiasm of these readers have kept our own interest unflagging and have reinforced our dedication to this effort. And in recent years our participants have also been augmented by new readers from the former Soviet Russia, who receive our newspaper there or from newly-arrived immigrants in this country and Israel.”
