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Creative Capitals (eight-disc boxed set) (2018)

<em>Creative Capitals</em> (eight-disc boxed set)

The sixteenth edition of Music@Menlo LIVE visits seven of Western music’s most flourishing Creative Capitals—London, Paris, St. Petersburg, Leipzig, Berlin, Budapest, and Vienna. Each disc explores the music that has emanated from these cultural epicenters, comprising an astonishingly diverse repertoire spanning some three hundred years that together largely forms the canon of Western music. Many of history’s greatest composers have helped to define the spirit of these flagship cities through their music, and in this edition of recordings, Music@Menlo celebrates the many artistic triumphs that have emerged from the fertile ground of these Creative Capitals.

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Selections

Concerto Grosso in D Major, op. 6, no. 5, HWV 323 | George Frideric Handel (14:53)

Katherine Arndt, Violin
Dmitri Atapine, Cello
Efe Baltacigil, Cello
Paul Huang, Violin
Matthew Lipman, Viola
Hyeyeon Park, Harpsichord
Scott Pingel, Double Bass
Amy Schwartz Moretti, Violin
Jenni Seo, Viola
Hannah Tarley, Violin
Wu Jie, Violin
Angelo Xiang Yu, Violin

Fugue in E-flat Major for String Quartet, op. 81, no. 4 | Felix Mendelssohn (5:48)

Efe Baltacigil, Cello
Amy Schwartz Moretti, Violin
Jenni Seo, Viola
Arnaud Sussmann, Violin

Songs of Travel | Ralph Vaughan Williams (21:26)

Gilbert Kalish, Piano
Kang Wang, Tenor

Suite for Violin and Piano, op. 6 | Benjamin Britten (15:55)

Gloria Chien, Piano
Angelo Xiang Yu, Violin

Holberg Suite for Strings, op. 40 | Edvard Grieg (19:32)

Efe Baltacigil, Cello
David Finckel, Cello
Paul Huang, Violin
James Kim, Cello
Lun Li, Violin
Matthew Lipman, Viola
Adelya Nartadjieva, Violin
Scott Pingel, Double Bass
Erin C. Pitts, Viola
Amy Schwartz Moretti, Violin
Jenni Seo, Viola
Arnaud Sussmann, Violin
Wu Jie, Violin
Angelo Xiang Yu, Violin

String Trio | Jean Françaix (18:34)

Efe Baltacigil, Cello
Matthew Lipman, Viola
Angelo Xiang Yu, Violin

Sextet for Wind Quintet and Piano, op. 100 | Francis Poulenc (18:07)

Jose Franch-Ballester, Clarinet
Peter Kolkay, Bassoon
Demarre McGill, Flute
Jon Kimura Parker, Piano
Kevin Rivard, Horn
Stephen Taylor, Oboe

Piano Quintet in f minor | César Franck (34:12)

Dmitri Atapine, Cello
Paul Huang, Violin
Matthew Lipman, Viola
Jon Kimura Parker, Piano
Angelo Xiang Yu, Violin

Ballad and Dance for Two Violins | György Ligeti (3:25)

Bella Hristova, Violin
Wu Jie, Violin

Duo for Violin and Cello, op. 7 | Zoltán Kodály (24:31)

Nicholas Canellakis, Cello
Bella Hristova, Violin

Canary Cantata, TWV 20: 37 | Georg Philipp Telemann (18:10)

Arie
O weh! o weh! mein Canarin ist tot.
Wem klag’ ich meine Not,
wem klag’ ich meine bittren Schmerzen,
wer nimmt dies Leid mit mir zu Herzen,
wem klag’ ich diese Not?

Aria
Oh dear! Oh dear! my canary is dead.
To whom can I lament my misery?
To whom can I lament my bitter pain?
Whose heart will share my suffering,
To whom can I lament this misery?

Rezitativ
So gehet’s mit der Vogel Freude
und mit den Dingen dieser Welt.
Die Unlust ist den Lüsten beigesellt.
Die Freude vergehet mit dem Leide.
Ja, ja, der schlaue Vogel kann dies lehren.
Er war mit seiner Lust vortrefflich anzuhören
und fast ein Wunder seiner Zeit.
Der glatte Hals war wohl geschliffen,
und hat manch feines Lied gepfiffen zur Fröhlichkeit.
Allein, die Freud ist aus.
Er lieget nun gestreckt,
und wird mit schwarzer Erd’ bedeck.

Recitative
And so goes the joy of a bird
and all things of this world.
Indifference is linked with desires,
joy departs with suffering.
Yes, yes, the cunning bird has a lesson for us.
His joy was most splendid to hear,
truly a marvel of the age.
His smooth throat was well trained
and whistled many a fine tune from sheer happiness.
Alone now, joy is gone.
He’s now laid out before me,
soon to be covered with black earth.

Arie
Ihr lieblichen Cannrienvogel,
beklaget meine Freud’ und eure Zier.
Ihr Vögel, die ihr sonst so wunderschön,
mit künstlich lieblichem Getön
den muntren Ohren pflegt zu dienen.

Aria
You lovely canaries,
lament my joy and your beauty.
You birds, who are also so beautiful,
would delight our ears
with your artistically lovely tones.

Rezitativ
Was soll ich mehr von deinem Lob besingen,
o! edler Canarin?
Du konntst dein helles Kehlchen also zwingen,
dass aller Ohren, Herz und Sinn,
so dich gehört, beweget worden.
Nur dir, dir grausamer Tod allein,
konnt der verliebte Ton doch nicht beweglich sein;
denn du hast grob und vermessen,
den teuren Bissen weggefressen.

Recitative
What more is there to sing in your praise,
O noble canary?
Your shining throat would pour forth melody
so that, on hearing you, all ears, hearts, and minds
would be moved.
Only you, cruel Death, and you alone,
could remain indifferent to that beguiling sound.
For you have roughly and rudely
devoured that treasured morsel.

Arie
Friss, dass dir der Hals anschwelle,
friss, du unverschämter Gast!
Dass dich der Vogel zerkratze, zerrisse
und dir den Magen und Därme zerbisse,
bis du ihn gespieen hast;
friss und berste auf der Stelle!

Aria
Eat, so your throat swells up,
Eat, you shameless guest!
So the bird will scratch you, tear at you,
and peck at your stomach and intestines,
until you spit it out;
eat and may you burst open on the spot!

Rezitativ
Allein, was will ich ferner klagen.
Was wird wohl auch nach meiner Trauer
fragen der strenge Bruder Tod.
Er muss so einen Papagei als Raben,
so einen Canarin als Sperling haben
zu seinem Morgenbrot;
und schonet keinen Vogel nicht.
Wohlan, so fahre hin,
betrübtes Wort; fahr hin,
du mein geliebter Canarin,
sollt gleich das Glück
mir seinesgleichen wiedergeben
(wiewohl es kaum geschieht),
so kommst du doch in meinem ganzen Leben mir
nimmermehr aus meinem Sinn.

Recitative
Alone, what more can I say.
After my weeping,
what more will stern Brother Death ask of me?
He must have a parrot or a raven,
a canary or a sparrow
for his morning bread;
no bird is spared.
Very well, take your leave,
O cheerless word; take your leave,
you, my much-loved canary.
Should I ever be so lucky
as to find another like you
(although that is hardly possible),
as long as I live
your memory shall remain.

Arie
Mein Canarine gute Nacht!
Eh’ wird das Federvieh sich
in die See versenken,
als ich an deinen treuen Fleiß
nicht sollte denken,
so gut hast du’s bei mir gemacht.

Aria
Good night, my canary!
Flocks will drown themselves
in the sea
before I forget
your faithful diligence,
you who were so good to me.

Rezitativ
Nun dann, so nehmt die kleinen Glieder
in eure Hand,
und setzt den Vogel sanfte nieder
in kühlen Sand.
Macht dass er sicher möge liegen,
um mich bei meinem Leide zu vergnügen.
So lasset dieses noch die letzte Ehre sein,
dass ihr schreibt auf den Leichenstein:
“Dat die de Hagel!
Hie ligt en Vagel,
de kunn mann neerteck quinqueleeren,
un alle Minschen konten teren.
Du Strekkebeen!
Als du wollst düssen Vagel freten,
so wull ick, dat du wär wat in den Hals geschmeten!”

Georg Philipp Telemann

Recitative
Now then, take the little limbs in your hand
and gently set the bird down in the cool sand.
Make sure that he lies safely,
to ease my suffering.
So let this be his final honor,
that you write on his tombstone:
“Devil take you!
Here lies a bird,
who once sang so beautifully
that he brought joy to everyone.
O Death!
Because you would eat this bird,
I want to wring your neck!”

English translation by Danielle Sinclair

Aaron Boyd, Violin
Sara Couden, Contralto
Gilbert Kalish, Harpsichord
Alexi Kenney, Violin
Matthew Lipman, Viola
Scott Pingel, Double Bass
Keith Robinson, Cello

Sextet in C Major for Winds, Strings, and Piano, op. 37 | Ernő Dohnányi (29:38)

Bella Hristova, Violin
Matthew Lipman, Viola
Anthony McGill, Clarinet
David Requiro, Cello
Kevin Rivard, Horn
Gilles Vonsattel, Piano

Cello Sonata in F Major, op. 5, no. 1 | Ludwig van Beethoven (25:24)

David Requiro, Cello
Gilles Vonsattel, Piano

Piano Quintet in f minor, op. 34 | Johannes Brahms (43:03)

Nicholas Canellakis, Cello
Bella Hristova, Violin
Gilbert Kalish, Piano
Kristin Lee, Violin
Richard O’Neill, Viola

Selections from Musical Offering, BWV 1079 | Johann Sebastian Bach (9:36)

Calidore String Quartet
Stephanie McNab, Flute

String Quartet in D Major, K. 575, Prussian | Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (24:10)

Calidore String Quartet

String Quartet no. 5 | Béla Bartók (30:11)

Calidore String Quartet

Andante and Variations in G Major for Piano, Four Hands, K. 501 | Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (7:32)

Gloria Chien, Piano
Wu Han, Piano

Impromptu for Viola and Piano, op. 33 | Dmitry Shostakovich (2:00)

Paul Neubauer, Viola
Wu Han, Piano

Piano Trio no. 1 in F Major, op. 18 | Camille Saint-Saëns (27:15)

Efe Baltacigil, Cello
Paul Huang, Violin
Wu Han, Piano

Allegro in a minor for Piano, Four Hands, op. 144, D. 947, Lebensstürme | Franz Schubert / Franz Liszt (12:28)

Gilbert Kalish, Piano
Wu Han, Piano

Piano Trio no. 2 in c minor, op. 66 | Felix Mendelssohn (28:40)

David Finckel, Cello
Arnaud Sussmann, Violin
Wu Han, Piano

Andante and Variations in B-flat Major for Piano, Four Hands, op. 83a | Felix Mendelssohn (12:07)

Michael Brown, Piano
Hyeyeon Park, Piano

From Jewish Folk Poetry, op. 79 | Dmitry Shostakovich (24:03)

Original Yiddish texts selected from the collection Jewish Folk Songs (1947), compiled by I. Dobrushin and A. Yuditsky, edited by Y. M. Sokolov
English translation by Danielle Sinclair

Plach ob umershem mladence
Solntse i dozhdik,
Sijanje i mgla.
Tuman opustilsja,
Pomerkla luna.

Kogo rodila ona?
Malchika, malchika.
A kak nazvali?
Mojshele, Mojshele.
A v chjom kachali Mojshele?
V ljulke.
A chem kormili?
Khlebom da lukom.
A gde skhoronili?
V mogile.
Oj, mal’chik v mogile, v mogile!
Mojshele, v mogile, oj!

Russian translation by Tatyana Aleksandrovna Spendiarova

Lament for a Dead Child
Sun and rain,
light and haze.
Fog has descended,
the moon has dimmed.

What did she bear?
A boy, a boy.
What did they name him?
Moishele, Moishele.
Where did they rock Moishele?
In the cradle.
What did they feed him?
Bread and onions.
And where they did bury him?
In the grave.
Oh, the boy is in the grave, in the grave!
Moishele, in the grave!

Zabotlivyje mama i tjotja
Baj, baj, baj,
V selo, tatunja, pojezzhaj!
Privezi nam jablochko,
Chtob ne bolet glazochkam!
Baj.

Baj, baj, baj,
V selo, tatunja, pojezzhaj!
Privezi nam kurochku,
Chtob ne bolet’ zubochkam!
Baj.

Baj, baj, baj,
V selo, tatunja, pojezzhaj!
Privezi nam utochku,
Chtob ne bolet grudochke!
Baj.

Baj, baj, baj,
V selo, tatunja, pojezzhaj!
Privezi nam gusochku,
Chtob ne bolet’ puzochku!
Baj.

Baj, baj, baj,
V selo, tatunja, pojezzhaj!
Privezi nam semechek,
Chtob ne bolet temechku!
Baj.

Baj, baj, baj,
V selo, tatunja, pojezzhaj!
Privezi nam zajchika,
Chtob ne bolet palchikam!
Baj.

Russian translation by Andrey Pavlovich Globa

Thoughtful Mother and Aunt
Bye, bye, lullabye,
into the village, papa, go!
Bring us back some apples,
so that our eyes won’t ache!
Bye.

Bye, bye, lullabye,
into the village, papa, go!
Bring us back a chicken,
so that our teeth won’t ache!
Bye.

Bye, bye, lullabye,
into the village, papa, go!
Bring us back a duck,
so that our chests won’t ache!
Bye.

Bye, bye, lullabye,
into the village, papa, go!
Bring us back a goose,
so that our bellies won’t ache!
Bye.

Bye, bye, lullabye,
into the village, papa, go!
Bring us back some seeds,
so that our heads won?t ache!
Bye.

Bye, bye, lullabye,
into the village, papa, go!
Bring us back a little rabbit,
so that our fingers won?t ache!
Bye.

Kolybelnaja
Moj synok vsekh krashe v mire—
Ogonjok vo tme.
Tvoj otets v tsepjakh v Sibiri,
Derzhit car jego v tjurme!
Spi, lju-lju, lju-lju!

Kolybel tvoju kachaja,
Mama sljozy ljot.
Sam pojmjosh ty podrastaja,
Chto jej serdce zhzhjot.

Tvoj otec v Sibiri dalnej,
Ja nuzhdu terplju.
Spi pokuda bespechalno, a,
Lju-lju, lju-lju, lju-lju!

Skorb moja cherneje nochi,
Spi, a ja ne splju.
Spi, khoroshij, spi, synochek, spi,
Lju-lju, lju-lju, lju-lju.

Russian translation by V. Zvyagintseva

Cradle Song
My son, most beautiful on earth,
my flame in the darkness.
Your father is in chains in Siberia,
held prisoner by the tsar!
Sleep, lulla lullabye!

While rocking your cradle,
your mother weeps.
When you are grown,
you will understand the anguish in her heart.

Your father is in far Siberia,
how I suffer.
Sleep now without cares,
and lulla lullabye!

My grief is blacker than the night.
Sleep now, though I cannot.
Sleep, my precious, sleep, my son, sleep,
lulla lullabye.

Pered dolgoj razlukoj
Soprano:
Oj, Abram, kak bez tebja mne zhit!
Ja bez tebja, ty bez menja—
Kak nam v razluke zhit?

Tenor:
A pomnish, v vorotakh so mnoj stojala—
Chto po sekretu ty mne skazala?
Oj, oj, Rivochka, daj tvoj rotik, devochka!

Soprano:
Oj, Abram, kak mne zhit teper’?
Ja bez tebja, ty bez menja,
Oj, kak bez ruchki dver!

Tenor:
A pomnish, guljali s toboj my v pare,
Chto mne skazala ty na bulvare?
Oj, oj, Rivochka, daj tvoj rotik, devochka!

Soprano:
Oj, Abram, kak mne zhit teper?
Ja bez tebja, ty bez menja,
Kak nam bez schast’ja zhit’?

Tenor:
Oj, Rivochka, kak bez tebja mne zhit!
Ja bez tebja, ty bez menja,
Kak nam bez schast’ja zhit’?

Soprano:
Ty pomnish, ja krasnuju jubku nosila?
Oj, kak togda ja byla krasiva!
Oj, Abram! Oj, Abram!

Tenor:
Oj, oj, Rivochka, daj tvoj rotik, devochka!

Russian translation by Andrey Pavlovich Globa

Before a Long Separation
Soprano:
Oh, Abraham, how can I live without you!
I without you, you without me—
how could we ever live apart?

Tenor:
But do you remember when you stood with me at the gate,
the secret you told me?
Oh, oh, Rivochka, give me a kiss, girl!

Soprano:
Oh, Abraham, how can I live now?
I without you, you without me,
like a door without a knob!

Tenor:
But do you remember when we went walking together,
what you did say to me on the avenue?
Oh, oh, Rivochka, give me a kiss, girl!

Soprano:
Oh, Abraham, how can I live now?
I without you, you without me,
how can we live without happiness?

Tenor:
Oh, Rivochka, how can I live without you!
I without you, you without me,
how can we live without happiness?

Soprano:
Do you remember the red skirt I wore?
Oh, how beautiful I was then!
Oh, Abraham! Oh, Abraham!

Tenor:
Oh, oh, Rivochka, give me a kiss, girl!

Predosterezhenije
Slushaj, Khasja!
Nelzja guljat,
Ne smej guljat,
S ljubym guljat,
Opasajsja, opasajsja!

Pojdjosh guljat,
Do utra guljat, oj,
Potom naplacheshsja,
Khasja! Slushaj! Khasja!

Russian translation by Nikolay Nikolayevich Ushakov

Warning
Listen, Xasia!
You cannot go for a walk,
do not dare to go for a walk,
if you go walking with anyone,
beware, beware!

If you should go for a walk,
and you walk until morning,
oh, then you will be crying,
Xasia! Listen! Xasia!

Broshennyj otec
Alto:
Ele-starevshchik, nadel khalat.
K pristavu dochka ushla, govorjat.

Tenor:
Tsirele, dochka, vernis k otsu,
Dam tebe platjev narjadnykh k ventsu.
Tsirele, dochka,
Sergi i koltsa kuplju tebe sam.
Tsirele, dochka,
I na pridachu krasavchika dam.
Tsirele e, dochka!

Alto:
Ne nado mne narjadov,
Ne nado mne kolets,
Lish s gospodinom pristavom
Pojdu ja pod venets.
Gospodin pristav,
Poshu vas, skoreje
Gonite v sheju
Starogo jevreja.

Tenor:
Tsirele, dochka! Vernis k otsu!
Tsirele, dochka! Vernis k otsu!
Vernisko otsu, vernis k otsu...
Tsirele, dochka!

Russian translation by S. Mar

The Deserted Father
Alto:
The old junk-dealer put on his bathrobe.
They say his daughter has left him for a policeman.

Tenor:
Tsirele, daughter, come back to your father,
I will give you a beautiful gown for your wedding.
Tsirele, daughter,
I will buy you earrings and rings.
Tsirele, daughter,
and I will give you a fine man.
Tsirele, daughter!

Alto:
I do not care for finery,
nor for rings.
I only wish to marry
my policeman.
Mr. Policeman,
quickly chase
this old Jew away.

Tenor:
Tsirele, daughter! Come back to your father!
Tsirele, daughter! Come back to your father!
Come back to your father! Come back to your father!
Tsirele, daughter!

Pesnja o nuzhde
Krysha spit na cherdake
Pod solomoj sladkim snom.
V kolybelke spit ditja
Bez peljonok, nagishom.

Gop, gop, vyshe!
Jest koza solomu s kryshi.
Gop, gop, vyshe!
Jest koza solomu s kryshi, oj!

Kolybel na cherdake,
Pauchok v nej tkjot bedu.
Radost moju sosjot,
Mne ostaviv lish nuzhdu.

Gop, gop, vyshe!...

Petushok na cherdake,
Jarko-krasnyj grebeshok.
Oj, zhena zajmi dlja detok
Khleba cherstvogo kusok.

Gop, gop, vyshe!...

Russian translation by B. Semyonov, adapted from text in Yiddish by B. Shafir

Song of Need
The roof will sweetly sleep
in the garret beneath the straw.
In the tiny cradle the child will sleep
without covers, stark naked.

Hop, hop, even higher!
A goat eats the straw from the roof.
Hop, hop, even higher!
A goat eats the straw from the roof, oh!

The cradle in the garret,
a spider weaves its misfortune.
Happiness has deserted me,
leaving only need.

Hop, hop, even higher!...

The rooster is in the garret,
with a bright red comb.
Oh wife, borrow some crusts of bread
for the children.

Hop, hop, even higher!...

Zima
Lezhit moja Shejndl v krovati,
I s neju rebjonok bolnoj.
Ni shchepki v netoplenoj khate,
A veter gudit za stenoj.
Ah...

Vernulis i stuzha, i veter,
Net sily terpet i molchat.
Krichite zhe, plachte zhe, deti,
Zima vorotilas opjat’.
Ah...

Russian translation by B. Semyonov

Winter
My Sheyndl lies in bed,
the sick child with her.
Not a stick in the frozen hut,
and the wind howls outside the walls.
Ah...

Both the cold and wind have returned,
there is no strength to suffer in silence.
So shout and weep, children,
winter has come again.
Ah...

Khoroshaja zhizn
O pole prostornom, druzja dorogije,
Pesen ne pel ja v gody glukhije.
Ne dlja menja polja rascvetali,
Ne dlja menja rosinki stekali.

V tesnom podvale vo tme syroj
Zhil ja kogda-to, izmuchen nuzhdoj.
I grustnaja pesnja neslas iz podvala
O gore, o muke mojej nebyvaloj.

Kolkhoznaja rechka, strujis veseleje;
Druzjam peredaj moj poklon poskoreje.
Skazhi, chto v kolkhoze teper moj dom,
Tsvetushcheje derevo stojit pod oknom.

Teper dlja menja polja rascvetajut,
Menja molokom i mjodom pitajut.
Ja schastliv, a ty rasskazhi mojim bratjam:
Kolkhoznym poljam budu pesni slagat ja!

Russian translation by Seymon Olender

The Good Life
Wide-open fields, dearest friends—
I never sang of them in years past.
The fields never bloomed for me,
nor did the dewdrops fall.

In a close basement, dark and damp,
I lived once and was tormented by need.
And sad songs rose from the basement to the mountain,
about my grief and suffering.

Community river, flow merrily;
swiftly send greetings to my friends.
Say that I now live on the communal farm,
and a blooming tree stands beneath my window.

Now fields bloom for me,
and I feast on milk and honey.
I am happy, and you can tell my brothers:
I will write songs to the farm fields!

Pesnja devushki
Na luzhajke, vozle lesa,
Chto zadumchiv tak vsegda,
My pasjom s utra do nochi,
Kolkhoznyje stada.
I sizhu ja na prigorke,
S dudochkoj sizhu svojej.
Ne mogu ja nagljadetsja
Na krasu strany mojej.

V jarkoj zeleni derevja
I krasivy, i strojny.
A v poljakh cvetut kolosja,
Prelesti polny.

Oj, oj, lju-lju!

To mne vetka ulybnjotsja
Kolosok vdrug podmignjot,
Chuvstvo radosti velikoj
V serdtse iskroju sverknjot.

Poj zhe, dudochka prostaja!
Tak legko nam pet vdvojom!
Slyshat gory i doliny,
Kak my radostno pojom!

Tolko, dudochka ne plakat!
Proshluju zabud pechal.
I puskaj tvoji napevy
Mchatsja v laskovuju dal.

Oj, oj, lju-lju!

Ja v svojom kolkhoze schastliva.
Slyshish, zhizn moja polna!
Veseleje, veseleje, dudochka,
Ty pet dolzhna!

Russian translation by Seymon Olender

Song of the Girl
In a field, near the ever-pensive forest,
we keep watch
over the farm flocks
from morning to night.
And I sit on the hillock,
sit with my little flute.
My eyes never grow weary
of gazing on this beautiful country.

The trees are clad in brilliant green,
beautiful and ordered.
In the fields the grains ripen,
such rich bounty.

Oh, oh, lulla lullabye!

Sometimes a branch will smile at me,
give me a wink,
and a feeling of happiness
will light in my heart.

So sing, little flute!
It is so easy for us to sing together!
Mountains and valleys
hear our joyful song!

Only, my flute, do not weep!
Forget the grief of the past.
And let your melodies
flow off into the distance.

Oh, oh, lulla lullabye!

I am happy on the farm.
You hear, my life is complete!
Merrier, much merrier, little flute.
You must sing!

Schastje
Ja muzha smelo pod ruku vzjala,
Pust’ ja stara, i star moj kavaler.
Jego s soboj v teatr povela,
I vzjali dva bileta my v parter.

Do pozdnej nochi s muzhem sidja tam,
Vsjo predavalis radostnym mechtam,
Kakimi blagami okruzhena
Jevrejskogo sapozhnika zhena.

I vsej strane khochu povedat ja,
Pro radostnyj i svetlyj zhrebij moj:
Vrachami, nashi stali synovja—
Zvezda gorit nad nashej golovoj!

Russian translation by Lev Dligach

Happiness
I boldly took my husband by the hand,
who cares that I am old, or that he’s an old man.
I took him to the theater,
and we bought two tickets in the parterre.

Sitting there with my husband
as the night grew late,
all happily thought of what goods surrounded
the Jewish shoemaker’s wife.

And I want to tell the entire country
about my good fortune:
Our sons are doctors—
a star shines above our heads!