An old Yiddish Song
Dear Malke, may you be well! Fill up the goblet, the goblet with wine. From this goblet, which gleams so prettily, my grandfather would drink--my grandfather himself!
There have been bad times, as sometimes happen, but I held on to the goblet with iron and steel. It would amuse all the children, as you know. From my father the goblet passed to me.
Dear Malke, may you be well! For whom shall I drink this wine? I drink for the little spark of Jewishness that struggles and never tires. I want to drink for those who departed. I drink for my enemies, but don't reveal it. Look, tears are spurting from the goblet.
Sing louder and louder: G-d. You are great! Malke, put away the goblet. The song is ended.