Researching Yiddish penny songs (tenement song broadsides of theater and variety show songs, 1895-1925)
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Youtube: all the Penny Songs I've recorded so far (with subtitles)

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Wednesday, June 24, 2020

Di letste blum fun zumer - Yiddish version of The Last Rose of Summer, 1897

The Last Bloom of Summer
(inspired by) Tom Moore
"The Last Rose of Summer"
from the famous opera MARTHA




There seem to be hundreds of videos of The Last Rose of Summer on Youtube. It's been a popular song for almost 200 years. There are dozens of sheet music arrangements available online as pdf downloads (but I made up my own).

Whoever wrote this Yiddish version (published in Yehudah Katzenelenbogen's Lider Magazin) remains anonymous. The Yiddish is very German.

I thought you'd enjoy this Bromo Seltzer version of the sheet music. Click for a larger view.




And click below for my living room recording, made yesterday and today:


Translation from the Yiddish and transliteration after the jump



Di letste blum fun zumer

S'iz di blum, ende zumer, di letste vos blit,
Den ir blumen kompaniye hot lang shoyn farblit
Keyn blum fun ir glaykhn keyn royz lebt nit mer
Vos zol itst nokh ir lozn a zifts un a trer

Un es velkt oykh di letste, es flistert mit vey
"Lang shloft dayn kompaniye gey shlof oykh mit zey
Bald ligst du tsetretn un shpirst mer keyn noyt
Un dayn bliung di sheyne blaybt verthloz un toyt!"

Vi oft kumt mir in zinen der mentsh iz a blum
Un zayn friling shtarbt eyder er kukt zikh arum
Fun yugnt un sheynhayt fun ehre un loyb
Blaybt mer nit vu iber a keyver mit shtoyb

The last bloom of summer

It's the flower at the end of summer, the last to bloom,
When her fellow flowers have long since faded
No bloom her equal, no rose lives any more
That can now leave her a sigh and a tear

And the last withers, too, it whispers in pain
"Your companions have been sleeping long, go sleep with them.
Soon you'll lie trodden and will feel no more suffering
And your beautiful blooming will lie worthless and dead."

How often it comes into my mind that man is a flower
And his springtime dies before he looks around
Of youth and beauty, of honor and praise
Nothing more remains anywhere but a dusty tomb



For sheet music and/or performances contact me: jane@mappamundi.com

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