By kind permission of
Gojim - An Austrian Group of Musicians
Schtiler, schtiler, lomir schwajgn,
kworim wakssn do.
'Ss hobn sej zum blo.
'Ss firn wegn zu Ponar zu,
'ss firt kejn weg zurik,
is der tate wu farschwundn
un mit im doss glik.
Schtiler, kind majnss, wejn nit, ojzer,
'ss helft nit kejn gewejn,
undser umglik weln ssonim
saj wi nit farschtejn.
'Ss hobn bregess ojch di jamen,
'ss hobn tfissess ojchet zamen,
nor zu undser pajn
kejn bissl schajn.
Friling ojfn land gekumen, -
un unds harbsst gebracht.
Is der tog hajnt ful mit blumen, -
unds set nor di nacht.
Goldikt schojn der harbsst ojf schtamen, -
blit in unds der zar;
Blajbt farjossmt wu a mame;
'Ss kind gejt ojf Ponar.
Wi di Wilje a geschmidte -
't ojch gejocht in pajn, -
zien kriess ajs durch Lite
izt in jam arajn.
'Ss wert der chojschech wu zerunen,
fun der finzter lajchtn sunen, -
rajter kum geschwind, -
dich ruft dajn kind.
Schtiler, schtiler, 'ss kweln kwaln
unds in harz arum,
bis der tojer wet nit faln
sajn mir musn schtum.
Frej nit, kind, sich, 'ss is dajn schmejchl
izt far unds farat,
sen dem friling sol der ssojne
wi in harbst a blat.
Sol der kwal sich riuk flissn,
schtiler saj un hof ...
Mit der frajhajt kumt der tate,
schlof-ssche, kind majn, schlof.
Wi die Wilje a bafrajte,
wi di bejmer grin banajte
lajcht schojn frajhajtlicht
ojf dajn gesicht.
Text: Shmaryahu (Shmerke) Kaczerginski, Melody: Alexander Wolkowiski
Quiet, quiet, let's be silent,
Dead are growing here
They were planted by the tyrant
See their bloom appear.
All the roads lead to Ponar now.
There are no roads back
And our father too has vanished,
And with him our luck.
Still, my child, don't cry, my jewel
Tears no help commands
Our pain callous people
Never understand
Seas and oceans have their order
Prison also has its border
Our torment is endless
Is endless
Spring has come, the earth receives her -
But to us brings fall.
And the day is filled with flowers -
To us darkness calls.
Autumn leaves with gold are softened. -
In us grow deep scars,
And a mother somewhere orphaned -
Her child - in Ponar.
Now the river too is prisoner
Is enmeshed in pain
While the blocks of ice tear through her,
To the ocean strain.
Still, things frozen melt, remember,
And cold winds to warmth surrender
Future bring a smile
So calls your child,
So calls your child.
Quiet quiet, wells grow stronger
Deep within our hearts,
Till the gates are there no longer,
No sound must impart.
Child, rejoice not, it's your smiling
That is not allowed
Let the foe encounter springtime
As an autumn cloud.
Let the well flow gently onward
Silent be and dream.
Coming freedom brings your father,
Slumber, child serene.
As the river liberated,
Springtime green is celebrated
Kindle freedom's light,
It is your right.
It is your right!