Yidl with his fidl came from a shtetl.
He and his Klezmers traveled near and far
to play music, lively and loud
for celebrations and weddings,
for singing and dancing to move
the feet and move the soul.

Melodies sweet and loud
push the feet to move.
Klezmers longing for their shtetl,
now so very far.
Sadness in the soul,
but still ahead, bring joy to more weddings.

We need to play at weddings
to feed the stomach and the soul,
to bring the profits home to our shtetl,
to make the crowd dance and move,
coming near and going far
as the tunes get soft and loud.

Now to Kiev, distant from the shtetl,
from home so very far,
to a rich man’s daughter’s wedding.
Sound of the city so loud,
pushcarts, horse carts, all move,
congregate multitude of souls.

So lavish is the rich man’s daughter’s wedding.
Melodious is the music and loud.
Yidl proud to be summoned from his shtetl
to a grand event so far,
food for Yidl’s soul.
Klezmers, make the music move.

But danger lurks after the wedding
in the street, sounds of hatred loud.
A pogrom begins to move,
the noise no longer far.
Fear grips the soul.
Flee back to the shtetl.

So, Yidl, fidl me a song,
melodious and strong,
a tune that moves along.

Marvin Klapman is an 86-year-old retired physician. He has become a poet in his retirement.