So I spent my afternoon with the community chorus of the Boston Workmen's Circle and it now appears I belong to a Yiddish chorus. They're called A Besere Velt—A Better World. I have not sung with a chorus in at least fourteen years and I have not performed professionally in two or three. I had a wonderful time. People said nice things about my voice and my musicianship, which was good for shutting up Tiny Wittgenstein. Songs almost everyone around me knew better than I did included "Hulyet, hulyet, beyze vintn," "Bella ciao," "Tsindt on a likhtl" (a modern Yiddish translation of "Light One Candle"), "Vilne," and Shmerke Kaczerginski's "Yugnt himn." There is a strong partizaner anti-fascist vibe to the current season's repertoire and I am fine with it. We will be performing in December as part of Yiddish New York. There's also some kind of smaller ensemble I have been invited, and plan, to audition into. More details as I gather them. There go my Saturdays. As you may be able to discern from the hours-lingering adrenaline, I am really happy.
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- 1: Is this your name or a doctor's eye chart?
- 2: And they won't thank you, they don't make awards for that
- 3: No one who can stand staying landlocked for longer than a month at most
- 4: But the soft and lovely silvers are now falling on my shoulder
- 5: What does it do when we're asleep?
- 6: Now where did you get that from, John le Carré?
- 7: Put your circuits in the sea
- 8: Sure as the morning light when frigid love and fallen doves take flight
- 9: And in the end they might even thank me with a garden in my name
- 10: I'd marry her this minute if she only would agree
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- Style: Classic for Refried Tablet by and
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