Ayelet Abramowitz

Blackout poem text from Seth Abramowitz and Zelda Kahan Newman.

Untitled - poem from Blossom in Ashes

ניט אײן מאָל קלערט זיך מיר
אַז מער װי הײַנטיקע
מיר זײַנען נעכטיקע—
דער הײַנט אַנטלױפֿט פֿון אונדז
כּהרף־עין—
דער נעכטן בלײַבט אונדז טרײַ
און גײט מיט אונדז
אַיעדן טראָט,
ער אײַלט ניט מער,
ער האָט זײַן צײַט, אַן אײביקײט
און מיר—ביז צײַט
פֿאַרלעשט ניט אונדזער זון,
טאָ זאָל מען גלײבן אונדז,
אין לײַכטזין ניט פֿאַרדעכטיקן,
מיר אָטעמען דעם הײַנט
אַן אמתן—אַז מער װי הײַנטיקע

–Rivka Basman Ben-Haim

More than once it seems …

More than once it seems that

More than of today

We are of yesterday

Today is gone

In the blink of an eye

But yesterday never leaves

Yesterday walks beside us

Every step of the way

It doesn't rush

It has time

An eternity

Until we die

Believe our story

Don’t think we are making fun 

We breathe in the day

We breathe the truth of the day

More than of today

We are of yesterday


-Translated from Yiddish by Ayelet

More than once it seems …

More than once it seems

that we are more of yesterday

Than of today

Today leaves us

It is gone In the blink of an eye

But yesterday never leave us

It stays with us

Every step of the way

It no longer hurries

It takes its time

An eternity

Until we are gone

Believe us

As they should without suspicion

We are here today

In a true day

We are more of yesterday

Than of today 


-Translated from Yiddish by Ayelet

Translator’s statement

Rivka Basman Ben-Haim was a Yiddish poet and educator born in 1925. Her mother died when she was young and her brother was killed by Nazis. During the holocaust, she was sent to a forced labor camp for women in Riga, where she would recite poems to lift the spirit of the women. When this camp was liquidated, she saved her poems by rolling them under her tongue. She said that these poems were “a cry from the heart but not artistic enough to be considered good poetry.”

Her poetry shows her connection to Israel, but she left what was currently happening politically and socially in Israel out of her work. Her poems are rhymed, and she uses a lot of innovative language, and juxtaposition in unique ways. Her poems are very lyrical, and often include nature, trees, flowers, the sea and rain. She didn’t like to write about the Holocaust until she was older and realized she was one of the last ones who could have experienced it. 

This poem is from a book she wrote in 2020, A Bliyung In Ash (A Bloom In Ashes). This book was devoted to writing about the Holocaust, and was dedicated to her brother who was “ripped out of her hands'' and “burned up.'' In this book are poems written both during and after the Holocaust about her experience (this poem is from 2003). She writes about her “shattered dream” - to be reunited with her father - and how people who “survived” did not really survive. She wrote a lot about the nature of time. In this poem, it seems like she is writing for people who have gone through this, who have yesterdays like hers. In the poem says don't think I am lying, as if she is speaking to people who don’t understand.

A few challenges me and my translation mentor struggled with when creating the literal translation were plurals and negative. Knowing if and how it made sense in plural or negative. Also, there were some things that were confusing as a direct translation.

As I was translating this poem, I really wanted to make sure I wasn't losing meaning as I translated. Some translations turn a poem into something else. You try to change words, change up sentences, and you make it meaningful to you, not the poet. I had trouble with changing some of the words because she used a lot of sound tools, so it was hard to change that. As I was writing my translation, I wanted to make sure I wasn't losing her meaning, which I was scared of doing by changing or moving words. I didn't want to leave anything out, or create a new meaning. As I worked, I thought about this quote, “You have to get inside the poem in order to articulate it, but the poem you get inside is someone else’s” (Carina del Valle Schorske). In my first translation I focused on rhyme and repetition, something this author seemed to value. I struggled with having words that kept the meaning she wanted. In the second poem, I focused on emotion, which was hard because I haven't experienced what she has been through. She wrote this poem from experience, something she has very strong feelings around. 

In my blackout poem, I used notes from speaking with my dad about my heritage language, and a paragraph from a source talking about Yiddish as a language and its history. As I was reading through it, I noticed that there was a lot about fear surrounding the language, and about the experiences the language holds. I chose to focus on words and phrases that carried more emotion, and related to what the language meant, and where it was to where it is now. As I wrote this poem, and I did research about my language, it made me feel sad about it. It feels like something important to my heritage, that is really only there to a few people. Yiddish was the everyday language, while Hebrew was more spiritual, but it feels like it has switched now. Yiddish is something that is coming back more as younger people learn it, but there are so little people that know it. 


Bibliography

Newman, Zelda Kahan. “Rivka Basman Ben-Hayim.” Jewish Women's Archive, 23 June 2021, https://jwa.org/encyclopedia/article/basman-ben-hayim-rivka. Accessed 8 April 2023.

“Two Poems from Blossom in Ashes.” Yiddish Book Center, https://www.yiddishbookcenter.org/language-literature-culture/yiddish-translation/two-poems-blossom-ashes. Accessed 25 April 2023.

Del Valle Schorske, Carina. “Letter of Recommendation: Translation.” The New York Times, 26 October 2017, https://www.nytimes.com/2017/10/26/magazine/letter-of-recommendation-translation.html. Accessed 25 May 2023.

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Ayelet is a 14-year-old student at Meridian Academy in Boston, MA. She has two younger sisters and a cat. She loves reading, hanging out with friends, and listening to music.