June 2020
It is always best to return to the source of any matter, even if the matter is painful, especially if it is painful. So much richness can be found in the moments we had to leave behind us, often because we did not have the time, at the time, to treasure and savor their richness. The splendour of today can come to us, like a winged bird of beauty, from the somber clouds of yesterday.
This morning I re-visited a song that I had learned as a child; and I re-learned its meaning, and discovered the truer version of this Yiddish song. Originally published in 1940, the tune was entitled Dana Dana, in Yiddish דאָס קעלבל — "Dos Kelbl”, which means The Calf. (“Dana” was later changed to “Dona,” the vocalized spelling that remains.) This truer version, the real version, was originally written by composer Sholom Secunda and lyricist Aaron Zeitlin for the Yiddish stage production Esterke in 1940.
The first version of Dona Dona that I learned contained the English lyrics translated by Arthur Kevess and Teddi Schwartz in the 1950s. This song is Donna, Donna, with the Anglicized “o” instead “a”, and with the “n” having been doubled, perhaps to broaden the commercial appeal of this rather monotone rendition that was sung by Joan Baez. Traditional folk songs by the 1960s had become early virtue signaling code for Help the Oppressed (while I get rich droning on and on about their plight).
The real version, the heart-felt version is sung by Theodore Bikel with full muscle and verve. I smiled to hear the simple power of his voice, an instrument that played many tunes in myriad languages, as it mastered the spoken word in umpteen dialects and accents. His was the heart-and-soul of an Austrian Jew, proud of his heritage, his culture, and the history of his people.
The history of “Dana Dana” is complex and confusing, since the Yiddish language is an oral tradition that permits much in the way of translation and transliteration. Yiddish theatre was a culture of infinite cultures that found their way to America, the land of the free, during the 19th and 20th centuries. This land of liberty granted to these immensely talented songwriters, comedians, actors, and artists the fertile soil to create music, drama, and comedy — and an entire Yiddish-American culture that blended the linguistic and musical memories of the lands they’d left, but never forgot, with their experiences and impressions of the land, America, that became their New World.
In a very real sense, in a very creative sense, those immigrants loved liberty enough to create art that celebrated liberty, but also echoed the threats to liberty. Dona Dona is one such song. The story simply and magnificently tells of a calf being led to slaughter.
The lyrics, however, disclose much more than a merely straight-forward tale. The Torah teaches that the night is divided into two parts. The first part occurs from sunset until midnight. It is a time of din, or strict judgement, of the conscience reflecting upon your actions of that day, and taking a moral accounting of them. The second part consists of the minutes between midnight and the dawn. This duration is called chesed.
Chesed is composed of the kindness that one shows, or enacts, toward his fellow man; the reverence and grace dedicated to the Ineffable; and the love and miséricorde bestowed upon a person by his Maker. Such loving kindness makes the difference between liberty and slavery, between independence and bondage to many ills and evils.
Chesed allows for the spiritual reparation of the soul, even of the world. It is a virtue all its own, giving birth to charity, the charity known as love.
With the break of dawn, that loving kindness and charity of heart can continue throughout the day, depending on the nature of the owner of that heart. The summer’s day is the fullness of sunlight, and the diminishment of darkness. The darkness in the soul of any man can thus be healed by the light at dawn that leads the way to the brighter tomorrow. It is the freedom to permit such saving grace not only to enter into your heart, but to benevolently leave it, that frees the soul from the bondage of hatred and willful spite.
Dona Dona aspires to that lightness of being, a spiritual freedom explained through the juxtaposition of a doomed calf and the bird who is free to fly. Below is the translation by Shalom Secunda of the original Yiddish text:
Dona Dona
On a wagon bound and helpless
Lies a calf, who is doomed to die.
High above him flies a swallow
Soaring gaily through the sky.
Chorus:
The wind laughs in the cornfield
Laughs with all his might
Laughs and laughs the whole day through
And half way through the night
Dona, dona, dona . . .
Now the calf is softly crying
"Tell me wind, why do you laugh?"
Why can’t I fly like the swallow
Why did I have to be a calf.
Chorus:
The wind laughs in the cornfield
Laughs with all his might
Laughs and laughs the whole day through
And half way through the night
Dona, dona, dona . . .
Calves are born and soon are slaughtered
With no hope of being saved.
Only those with wing like swallow
Will not ever be enslaved.
Chorus:
The wind laughs in the cornfield
Laughs with all his might
Laughs and laughs the whole day through
And half way through the night
Dona, dona, dona...