Itzik - a naughty parody set to "Nokh a bisl un epes nokh"
Morris Rund wrote this lyric - as I wrote in my post on the original song Nokh a bisl un epes nokh, the tune was probably an instrumental before there were any words at all. I think Louis Gilrod and his pal M. J. Rubinstein co-opted the tune, wrote a tiny bit more music and (maybe) the words, and published it.
Morris Rund's text is a bit naughty and also kind of hard to sing. I had to practice before I could get this out: "Farpak dem shmitshik shpil nit Itsik, Stop shoyn skripn Sore Tsipn." Again, Rund is obsessed with what the landlady does with the boarder when the husband is at work during the day. Musicians work at night and have a racy reputation, which makes the fantasies even more vivid.
So when (as usual) the landlady's husband comes home and finds Itzik fiddling his wife, he tells Itsik to move, and in the third verse Itsik moves to his landlady's vint. There seems to be an alternate meaning here for the word and I don't know what it is. If you know, please let me know.
So here's the song. It should really be done by a whole klezmer band:
Transliteration and translation from the Yiddish after the jump.
Lernen shpiln fidl un nit mer
Yestst halt er in eyn skripn un voynt by Sore Tsipn
Im hern shpiln iz nor ir bager
Koym geyt ir man nor fun der shtib aroys
Khapt zi on Itsken un shrayt tsu im oys! Oy vey!
Itsik Itsik nem dayn shmitshik shpil shpil shpil
Nem dem fidl shpil a lidl shpil shpil shpil
A kozatske un a khatske shpil zhe Itsik mit dayn shmitshik
Shpil shpil shpil zhe Itsik, shpil!
Nit betn lozt zikh Itsik un nemt zikh glaykh tsum shmitshik
Un heybt on fidlen mit zayn gantsn koyekh
Di missus zitst un freyt zikh, der spodik bay ir dreyt zikh
Zi heyb on tantsn shpringen in der hoykh
Plutsim kumt ir man arayn tsu geyn
Treft Itsikn fidlen un mit dem shmitshik shteyn oy vey!
Itsik Itsik nem dem shmitshik, muf muf muf
Hit dir di beyner sheygets eyner muf muf muf
Farpak dem shmitshik shpil nit Itsik
Stop shoyn skripn Sore Tsipn
Muf muf muf zhe Itsik muf
Ayngepakt hot Itsik dem fidl mit zayn shmitshik
Un arayngemuft glaykh tsu der missus vint
Kumt plutsim dort tsu krikhn ganovim un zey zikhn
Der shmitshik hobn zey bay im fardint
Yetst shteyt di missus un zi kukt im on
"Vos kenstu," shrayt zi, "on a shmitshik ton?" Oy vey!
Itsik Itsik zikh dem shmitshik zukh zukh zukh
Vos kenstu toygn on dem boygn, zukh zukh zukh
Loyf geshvinder zikh atsinder
A gutn shmitshik far dir Itsik
Loyf loyf loyf zhe Itsik loyf
Avek is bald di Itsik gekoyft a nayem shmitshik
Un aheym gelofn mit im iz er geshvind
"Ikh hob," shrayt er atsinder, "a shmitshik gor a vinder!"
Un heybt on fidlen bay der missus vind
Di missus tantst far freyd poshet zi kvelt,
"Dayn shmitshik," shrayt zi, "iz vert milionen gelt!" Oy vey!
Itsik Itsik host dem shmitshik shpil shpil shpil
Farlir keyn tsayt nit shpil un reyd git shpil shpil shpil
Ikh fil gezunter ven du shpilst unter
Liber Itsik mit dayn shmitshik
Shpil shpil shpil zhe Itzik shpil
When little Itsik got here, he took to learning the fiddle, nothing more
Now he's always fiddling and lives at Sore Tsipn's place.
All she desires is to hear him play.
As soon as her man leaves the house she grabs Itsik and shouts to him, oy vey!
Itsik, Itsik, pick up your bow, play play play
Take your fiddle, play a little tune, play play play
A kozatske and a khatske, play with your bow, Itsik,
Play play, play Itzik, play!
Itzik didn't have to be begged, he took up his bow immediately
And began fiddling with all his strength
His landlady sits and enjoys herself, her hat twirls
She begins dancing, jumping up high
Suddenly her husband comes in
He finds Itsik fiddling there with his bow, oy!
Itsik Itsik pick up your bow and move, move, move
Watch out for broken bones, you scalawag! Move, move, move
Pack up your bow, don't play any more, Itzik
And stop fiddling Sore Tsipn
Move, move, move, Itzik, move!
Itsik packed up his fiddle and bow
And moved right into the landlady's ?
Suddenly thieves come there and they're looking...
They earned his bow
Now the landlady's standing and looking at him:
"What can you do without a bow?" she shouts. Oy vey!
Itsik Itsik look for your bow, look look look
What good are you without the bow? Look look look
Run quickly, look for a good bow right now, Itsik
Run run run Itsik run
So Itsik is away quickly to buy a new bow
And he runs home quickly with it
"I have," he shouts now, "a wonderful bow!"
And he begins fiddling by the landlady's ?
The landlady dances for joy, she's simply beaming,
"Your bow," she cries, "is worth a million dollars!" Oy vey!
Itsik Itsik, you have the bow, play play play
Don't waste time, play and talk well, play play play
I feel more healthy when you play under with your bow, dear Itsik,
Play play play Itzik, play!
For sheet music and/or performances contact me: jane@mappamundi.com
Labels: battle between the sexes, humor, klezmer, sarcasm, slang
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