PROGRAM NOTES

Camp Songs
Paul Schoenfield

Texts by Aleksander Kulisiewicz

Translation by Barbara Milewski

Czarny Boehm Black Boehm – 1942

Czy to w dzieÕ czy to w noc, Whether it’s by night or day,

trupy wÄdzÄ wesoÓ hoc! I burn corpses – jump for joy!

Puszczam czarny, czarny dym, I make a black black smoky smoke –

bom ja czarny, czarny BØhm! ‘Cause I am black black Boehm!

I kobietki i staruszki, I’d like to burn some chicks or hags,

i dzieciaki chciaÓbym teü I’d like some kiddies, too.

sto kominÙw tu bym miaÓ I wish I had a hundred chimneys,

so genau jak Birkenau. Like they have in Birkenau!

Hulaj dusza! Czort Katiusza! Oh, happy soul! Sending Ruskies to hell!

Aber Judem sind nich da! Still, there aren’t really quite enough Jews here;

Jejku bo w czterdzieíci trzy I could use more Jews in ’43 –

i esma ny byd· szyÓ! Else they might send some SS-guys to me!

Hah, hah, hah, hah, hah!

Wtenczas zdrÙw i wtenczas hoc Soon, healthy, happy and jumping for joy,

wÄdziÓ bÄdÄ w dzieÕ i w noc. We’ll smoke by night and we’ll smoke by day;

TÓusty, tÓusty pÙjdzie dym, We’ll send up a real fat smoky smoke –

a z nimczarny, czarny BØhm. We’ll send up black black Boehm.

Hah, hah, hah, hah, hah!

Tango Truponoszow The Corpse Carrier’s Tango – 1943

Ta psia jucha Germania Germany, that dog from hell,

cholerna mÄczy czÓeka juü czwarty rok. Has tortured us four years already.

W krematorium truposzÙw przypieka; The crematorium corpse-carrier sweats,

tym to ciepÓo, milutko bo… It’s warm where he works, but very pleasant.

Bo przypieka tam czÓowiek After all, he’s burning people in there –

czÓowieka ni topiekarz ni rzeünik to; You can see he’s no butcher or baker!

wiÄc do pieca, synalku, nie zwlekaj!! So, dear boy, be off to the oven and don’t delay!

Immer langsam und sicher und froh! Ever slow, ever steady – and full of joy!

Po szturchaÕcu pierwszym jest ci lepiej, After the first poke, you’ll feel better.

w morÄ lej· a ty humor masz… A second punch in the face – but you’re laughing still!

i kopniaczek trzeci siÄ przylepi, The third kick you’ll really remember –

a po czwartym…mokre portki, ach!… And after the fourth, you’ll wet your pants!

PiÄciu drani w jedne kopie nery When five dirty dogs kick you in the kidneys,

i wypluwaj, bracie, zÄbÙw szeíº! Brother, you’ll spit out six broken teeth!

SiÙdmy obcas skacze ci po brzuchu!… A seventh dog digs his heels into your belly –

i dopiero wtedy fajno jest. That’ll certainly make you feel great!

Kostusia sliczna, joj! okey!… Oh, beautiful, lovely Lady Death! Okay! –

biedula bez partnera a üe Poor thing, she’s looking for a partner, a date!

do oczka wpadÓeí jej, wiÄc oczkiem ciÄ pozera… And you, dear fellow, are the guy that she’s ogling –

Do Leichen keller prosisz j·, She’ll eat you right up with her hungry eyes!

wyci·gasz giryw net You ask her to rendezvous at the corpse-cellar,

niedÓugo pÙjdzie And there you allow her to gaze at your festering wound,

z ciebie sw·d w czuÓym, Soon its stink will give way

trupim tete a tete… To a tender, decadent, tete a tete!

Za minutkÄ bracie, jesteí w niebie, One minute later, brother, you’ll find yourself in heaven,

cieplutenkie p·czkifrygasz dwa… With two warm doughnuts in your hand,

trzech anioÓkÙw w pupcie cie poskrobie Three little angels scrub your butt clean,

i wykrzyknie: so ein hòbscher Arsch!… And cry out in German, “My! What a lovely ass!”

Czwarty anioÓ, toº milunia Ania A fourth angel – darling little Anna –

piÄº kielichÙw wlewa w durny pysk. Pours five shots of whisky down her throat,

Z anioÓkami lulaj dziesiÄcioma… While ten sweet angels lull you off to sleep:

lulajw niebie, lulaj, c’est la vie! So, rest peacefully in heaven, now. C’est la vie!

Heil, Sachsenhausen! - 1941

Jestem sobie na wpÙÓ I’m a half-wild savage, you know,

dziki scheissenPoluí, cham. scheissenPolus, cham. One dumb prisoner, an uncultured clod –

und warum denn warum denn do Afryki? Why then sail off to Africa?

Tu kolonie mam! We have a colony right here!

Kupili ciÄ chÓopie, They bought you like a slave, man,

Kupili z gna tami Bought you – lock, stock and barrel.

Krew ci z’mordy kapie Blood drips from your mug, right here,

alles Scheiss ist egal. ‘Cause everywhere, all crap’s the same!

Aj, Sachsenhausen Heil, Sachsenhausen!

Kolonia gwarna parna Hot, stinking colony.

Germania richtig dzika Germany, it’s the real thing!

Heil Sachsenhausen. Heil, Sachsenhausen!

Giry tycie jak bambusik, Our legs are thin as bamboo shoots,

trupie Óebki to kaktusy, The corpses stink – whew! – they’re naked, too!

Heil, heil, es lebe Kulturkampf. Heil! And long live Kulturkampf!

M¬dchen sobie zafundujÄ I’ll buy myself a nice German girl,

Polaczyko ja… Poor Pole that I am.

Gibt’s denn so was? wy bestyje! But what do you give me, you uniformed beasts?

íliczne oczka ma sliczne oczka ma Well… she does have beautiful eyes.

A z tej M¬dchen matki She, the sweet young girl and mommy,

i z durnego tatki Me, the drooling, stupid daddy,

bÄd· kindchen w kratki Our kids will wear checkered clothing –

schwartz und weiss und rot… Black and white and red.

Aj, Sachsenhausen! Heil, Sachsenhausen!

BÓogosÓawiony raju wszak Heavenly paradise you are,

wielbi ciebie ludzkoíº… All humanity adores you –

Heil, Sachsenhausen. Heil, Sachsenhausen!

A jak bÄdÄ jutro zdychaÓ, And if, tomorrow, I should die like a dog,

lew· nÙük· zafikam: Today, I’ll kick up my feet and dance!

Heil, Heil, Es lebe Kulturkampf! Heil! And long live Kulturkampf!

Mister C – 1940

Roczek wtÙry, mÙj ty Boüe It’s the second year, dear God,

bryka sobie hakenkreuz… And the swastika’s still frolicking;

üadna siÓa go nie zmoüe, There is no power that can exhaust it,

bo inaczej to kniebeug! So we’d all better get down on our knees!

Taki straínie wielki fòhrer, Such a terrible, great, ferocious Fuehrer,

taki z pendzlem r¬ubergoj, Such a robber-goy – with paint brush, yet!

we Óbie pluszcz· mu pomyje, And his head’s filled up with dirty dishwater,

blØdes Volk mu ryczy Heil!! While his stupid people shriek out: “Heil!”

A mister C. cygaro pali, Meanwhile, Mister C puffs his big cigar,

mister C. cygaro ºmi, Mister C blows out some smoke;

Europa siÄ nam wali, Europe crumbles all around us,

a on gieÓdÄ a on gieÓdÄ ma i spleen. And he’s as cool as cool can be!

Mister C. cygaro stÓumi But, Mister C will snuff out his smoke,

Adolfowi plunie w “Sieg”, And he’ll spit on Adolf’s “Sieg!”,

pogrzeb fundnie mu na Rugli He’ll pay for Adolf’s funeral on the Isle of Rugia –

moüe w dziewiºset czterdzieíci trzy… Maybe as early as ’43!

Moüe, ach, moüe ach, moze oj, Maybe, oh, maybe, maybe we’ll see –

ktÙü to wiedzieº moüe? Maybe… but who can really know for sure?

Morze gÓÄbokie, nieboüe, Maybe, poor devil, we’ll see – the deep sea,

angielskie zwÓaszcza morze, morze… Maybe, especially, the English sea…

Jump· tiu, di di di jump·… Yoom pom tiu di di di yoom pah,

jump· day di di di you! Yoom pom tiu di di di yoo –

moüe moüe ktÙü to wiedzieº moüe Maybe, maybe…but who can really know for sure?

moüe wschodni wietrzyk mu pomoüe? Maybe the “eastern wind” can help.

Pozegnanie Adolfa ze Swiatem Adolf’s Farewell to the World – 1943

Nad WoÓgi fal· goni·c Moskala By River Volga, chasing after the Russkies,

szlachetna truppa zwiewaÓa… The noble troop-p-ps, in fact, were buggering off!

Und immer naprzÙd, und immer weiter, “And ever forward, and ever further” –

a szkopÙw Rasija gnaÓa. Now Mother Russia was chasing the Krauts!

Und immer naprzÙd, und immer weiter “And ever forward, and ever further” –

a SykopÙw Rasija gnaÓa. Now Mother Russia was chasing the Krauts!

üegnaj mi Moskwo, üegnaj Samaro, Farewell to Moscow, farewell to Samara,

mÙj Leningradzie daleki! My distant Leningrad, farewell!

Oj, jubel minie, kiedy na Krymie Ah, the party will be over, when soon in Crimea,

zerün· mnie w portki na wieki... They take the crap out of my pants – forever!

Oj, jubel minie, …… Ja, ja – it’s really true….

¨egnam was gÙry, gÙry Uralu Farewell to your mountains, your fair Ural Mountains,

i ciebie z Rud· Armad·. And your armada, I bid it farewell.

Ty jesteí Stalin Stalin ze stali, You are the man Stalin, man-of-steel Stalin,

ja jestem impotent Adolf… And I’m only an impotent Adolf.

Und immer naprzÙd und immer weiter

praszczaj wiÄc wdziÄczna mi Europo Forgive me, hospitable Europe!

za moj· Arbeit und Freude! Forgive my “Arbeit und Freude”!

gdzieí w siÙdmym niebie, pod siÙdmym pÓotem, Perhaps, in the seventh heaven, beneath the seventh fence –

moüe za üonÄ ciÄ pojmÄ… I shall take you as my bride.

Adieu teü wszystkie szwabskie dziewice, KtÙraü mi… Adieu to you, my lovely Kraut virgins,

karty rozÓoüy Now who will spread the tarot cards for me?

ChÓopak ja byÓem dumny i íwiÄty, As a boy I was always proud and saintly –

bom nigdy nie cudzowÓozyÓ… I never stuck it where it didn’t belong!

Sieg heil, general mÙj GÙwnernament, Sieg-heil, my General-Gouvernexcrement!

dobroci dzieÓo ogromne… You great and magnificent province!

EmeryturÄ sut· dostaniesz You’ll receive a grand pension to compensate

za goebbelsiowski mÙj Bromberg. For the loss of, as Goebbels would say, my Bromberg.

Gitara brzÄÓa, Germania jekÓa… A guitar plinks, Germania sighs;

Victoria zmarzÓa wírÙd tundry Victory was frozen on the tundra!

a oí Adolfa jak Bardia pÄkÓa, Adolf’s axis is broke as a poet –

i zostaÓ znÙw bezprizorny… And he remains, an orphan again.

a oí Adolfa jak Bardia pÄkÓa, Adolf’s axis is broke as a poet –

i zostaÓ znÙw bezprizorny… And he remains, an orphan again.