A poem about cemetery measuring by Morris Rosenfeld, the “sweatshop bard” best known for his poems describing the hardships of Jewish immigrants in the US. The original Yiddish can be found here.

Feld-mestn – Cemetery measuring

Walking through the stones, old Mina,

And behind her, Fesye-Tsveytl

Mina cries and says the tkhine

And Fesye lays the wick, the kneytl.

And their tears roll quietly down,

Soft and warm onto the prayer; –

Sobbing, but with scarce a sound

Utters Mina, with despair:

Powerful lord of all worlds! I,

Your weak and humble servant maid,

Measure where the wise ones lie,

In peaceful dwellings, quiet graves.

All the silent little mounds

I measure now, oh Lord above,

Where are resting, staunch and sound,

Your children, still so deeply loved.

They who sing hymns by your throne,

In the heavens vast and deep

Each one from their own abode

Through their sweet eternal sleep.

And from the wick which here I lay,

Will Fesye, fearful and in awe,

Make candles, God, to light the way,

By which to teach your holy law.

By which to beg you for forgiveness,

Hopeful that you’ll hear

Jacob’s truthful prayer, and witness

Your people Israel’s tears.

Cite this: Morris Rosenfeld, ‘Feld-mestn’, Gezamlte lider (Collected Poems). International Library Publishing Co., New York, 1904 pp. 135-136. Trans. Annabel Gottfried Cohen.

An earlier version of this translation, along with others from this site, was published in Annabel Cohen, ‘Grave walkers’, T.S. Mendola (ed.) Strange Fire: Jewish voices from the pandemic, Ben Yehuda Press, 2021. https://www.benyehudapress.com/books/strange-fire/