Goldene land (Золота земля), пісня про еміграцію, 1889

Goldene land (Golden land)

[About America I ] had heard as a child
when two people conversed.
How lucky one lives on Columbus’ ground;
It is truly a Golden Land.

I arrived and read through this “holy book”.
Many tears, sorrow is printed on each page.
In the narrow streets where the masses are thick,
Poor, dark; bad fortune is seen on their faces.

They stand from morning to night.
The lips burnt and faint.
This one sacrifices his child for a cent,
That one gets thrown out of his flat because of rent.

The home is full of poverty.
Children are ripped out of school.
They remain ignorant, unintelligent,
and you call this “a Golden Land”

In downtown New York: take a look
where the air is regularly polluted.
The tenements are crowded with people,
like herrings squeezed in barrels.

Who could stand and watch this sorrow
as children jump from the car [trolley car]
with hands full of newspapers
as they catch cold to earn a cent.

The home is full of poverty.
Children are taken out of school.
They remain ignorant, unintelligent,
and you call this “a Golden Land”.

The worker’s year swims around him
in a river of his own sweat.
He labors when its busy, starves when its “slack” [no work]
And is always fearful of his “place” [place in line for work]

The machine gives someone a tear
leaving the leather workers with no legs.
This one has no foot, that one no hand
And this you call “a Golden Land”.

Yet there are the wealthy who live there,
he possesses an entire kingdom.
What in Europe was a prince, is in America a wealthy man;
the power of both is equal.

No competition can harm him;
his capital is large.
He plays with them awhile
and soon is rid of all the smaller ones.

How great is his power and his word.
He has the authority in his pocket.
No social position applies to him.
For him is this a “Golden Land.”

Elyokum Zunser, 1889.