Briderlekh arbeter! (Brother workers) a Jewish Labor Movement anthem by David Meyerowitz
The broadside (click for larger view) has "Brider Arbeter" as the title - I wonder if that's because it takes up less space. Note the great advertisement for the fortune teller.
The song was published commercially as "Briederlech arbeiter." (Briderlekh arbeter) and David Meyerowitz, composer, had his name misspelled Meyrowitz on the front and inside. On the cover it says copyright 1907 and on the first page it says copyright 1909. The sheet music is available on the Library of Congress website.
I shouldn't have sung this so fast.
Un alts vos lebt un eksistirt vert mit kunst banayt.
A yeder denker denkt fun kunst es vern fil derfindungen farfast
Un onshtot vos dos alts vel farlaykhtern undz, falt undz nokh shverer di last.
Mir arbetn mer biter un shver un mir hobn derfun koym af broyt.
Di bosses vern raykh un mir arbeter shvakh mir hobn a fritsaytikn toyt, yo yo,
Briderlekh arbeter ven vet di ende zayn?
Fun undzer blut un shveys trinkt men shampanyer vayn.
Undz iz shlekht ven dem boss iz git
Tsi zaynen mir den keyn mentshn nit?
Ven vet amol di ende zayn, yo!
Der arbeter dershaft altsding, in zayn hand ligt di makht
Un helfn ken er zikh gants gring un dokh iz er nor fartrakht
Er trakht vi azoy men makht yenem raykh er vayst zayn boss er iz im tray
Nor hot er keyn koyekh fort tsu zetsn zayn fakh
Heyst men im geyn say vi say
Dan in zayn noyt on koyekh on broyt
Shikt er zayn kind af zayn ort
Dos kind arbet nor biz es krigt di dor
Un der boss zikh milionen dort shport
The whole world is progressing, because time brings advances,
And everything that lives, that exists, is reinvented with tricks.
Every thinker thinks up tricks, many things are invented,
And instead of everything getting easier, the burden falls on us even harder.
We work more, it's bitter and hard, we barely earn enough to buy bread,
The bosses get rich and we workers get weak and we die before our time.
Brother workers, when will this end?
From our blood and sweat others drink champagne.
Things are bad for us when they're good for the boss.
Aren't we people too? When will this end?
The worker creates everything, in his hand lies the power,
And he can help himself easily. And he's thinking!
He thinks how he makes others rich. He shows his boss he's faithful
But when he has no strength to continue his work
He's told to get out
Then, in his destitution, without strength, without bread,
He sends his child in his stead.
The child works until he's shown the door
And the boss saves millions.
For sheet music and/or performances contact me: jane@mappamundi.com
Labels: history, labor union, New York, politics, union, workers
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