A brivele der mamen (Лист мами), пісня про еміграцію, 1907

A brivele der mamen 

My child, my comfort, you are going away.
Remember to be a good son.
With anxious tears and fear I beg you,
your loyal, dear mother.
You are traveling, my child, my only child,
across distant seas.
Just arrive in good health
and don’t forget your mother.
Oh, travel in health and arrive in good spirit.
Please send a letter every week,
and thus lighten your mother’s heart, my child.

A letter to your mother 
you shouldn’t delay. 
Write right away, 
dear child.
Grant her this consolation.
Your mother will read your little letter
and she will recover.
You’ll heal her pain, 
her bitter heart.
You’ll delight her soul.

These eight years I’ve been alone.
My child has sailed far away.
His childish heart is hard as stone:
Not a single letter has arrived.
How can my child go on?
How is his life going?
He must be doing very well there,
since he’s forgotten me.
I’ve sent him a hundred letters,
and he still has no sense
that my pain is so deep.  

A letter to your mother …

In the city of New York there’s a wealthy home,
with hearts that have no feeling.
Her son lives there in lavish style.
He has a lovely family:
a beautiful wife and two children
with radiant face.

And as he sits and beams with pride at them,
he receives a letter:  
“Your mother is dead,” it has happened.
In life you neglected her.
This was her last wish:

Say a little kaddish for your mother,
don’t delay. 
Say it now, 
dear son.
Grant her this consolation.
Your mother will hear the kaddish 
from her grave. 
You’ll heal her pain, her bitter heart.
You’ll delight her soul.

Solomon Smulevitz, 1907