Trees and houses floating, dancing,
It all wrapped in haze,
And in the gray dancing, streets
revolve quiet, revolve crazed.
A drowsy, watchful, blank-eyed thing
To a window sloping;
The handkerchief slips down
And its mouth hangs open.
Down low, gray shadows
Are stumbling around,
Someone cursed them
To my sadness to be bound.
Shvebn, tantsn hayzer, beymer,
Alts in nebl iz farhilt,
Un in groyen tantsn gasn,
Dreyen shtil zikh, shtil un vild.
Tsu a fentster tsugeboygn,
A geshtalt kukt shtar farshlofn;
S’rukht arop zikh di fatsheyle
Un der moyl bay ir iz ofn.
In der nider shotns groye
Blonken epes zikh arum,
S’hot zey emets ver farsholtn,
Un farglivert zey in umet.
By Moyshe Varshe
Translated by Corbin Allardice
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