Zog nit keyn mol, az du geyst dem letstn veg,
Khotsh himlen blayene farshteln bloye teg.
Kumen vet nokh undzer oysgebenkte sho,
S’vet a poyk ton undzer trot: mir zaynen do!
Fun grinem palmenland biz vaysn land fun shney,
Mir kumen on mit undzer payn, mit undzer vey,
Un vu gefaln iz a shprits fun undzer blut,
Shprotsn vet dort undzer gvure, undzer mut!
S’vet di morgnzun bagildn undz dem haynt,
Un der nekhtn vet farshvindn mit dem faynt,
Nor oyb farzamen vet di zun in der kayor –
Vi a parol zol geyn dos lid fun dor tsu dor.
Dos lid geshribn iz mit blut, un nit mit blay,
S’iz nit keyn lidl fun a foygl oyf der fray,
Dos hot a folk tsvishn falndike vent
Dos lid gezungen mit naganes in di hent.
To zog nit keyn mol, az du geyst dem letstn veg,
Khotsh himlen blayene farshteln bloye teg.
Kumen vet nokh undzer oysgebenkte sho –
Es vet a poyk ton undzer trot: mir zaynen do!
ENGLISH TRANSLATION
Never say that there is only death for you,
Though leaden skies may be concealing days of blue,
Because the hour we have hungered for near;
Beneath our tread the earth shall tremble — we are here!
From land of palm tree to the far-off land of snow,
We shall be coming with our torment and our woe;
And everywhere our blood has sunk into the earth,
Shall our bravery, our vigor blossom forth.
We’ll have the morning sun to set our day aglow,
And all our yesterdays shall vanish with the foe;
And if the time is long before the sun appears,
Then let this song go like a signal through the years.
This song was written with blood and not with lead;
It’s not a song that summer birds sing overhead;
It was a people among toppling barricades,
That sang this song of ours with pistols and grenades.
Never say that there is only death for you,
Though leaden skies may be concealing days of blue,
Because the hour we have hungered for is near;
Beneath our tread the earth shall tremble, — we are here!
