15 June 2025
"Yiddish Proverbs" - a guest post by Billiamo
Please welcome back ! He favored us with an essay last month, but his most recent one seems very fitting for today, considering the current outbreak of war (dare we admit it is that?) between Israel and Iran.
Yiddish Proverbs
by
When I was in my early twenties, I took time off college to work at a small Reform synagogue. While my gifts as a custodian were limited, to say the least, the staff and congregants were good to me, often to the point of indulgence. My first week at work I taped a chart of the alef-bet inside my supply closet and learned to sound out words in Hebrew, if a bit haltingly. A rudimentary grasp of the language was the key to a new world.
My memories of the place could fill a book, and not a slender one. I cherish the memory of apples and honey at Rosh Hashanah, challah at Oneg Shabbat, and hymns like “L’Cha Dodi” and “Yedid Nefesh” sung by our cantor, a tiny soprano with a powerful voice. I also cherish the close friendships I made with the office manager and a retired couple. I barely remember the drudgery much of the job must have entailed.
Among the delights of those two years was the small library housed in a narrow room at the end of a hallway. Among its treasures was the Babylonian Talmud—73 volumes bound in dark green leather. On my breaks I read less intimidating fare, such as Bernard Lazare’s Job’s Dungheap, the latest edition of the Jerusalem Post, and an Illustrated History of the Jewish People, in which I first learned about Georgian and Cochin and Kaifeng Jews, the Ladino language, and the Pogrom of York, among much else.
But the book that stuck with me most was a thin volume of Yiddish proverbs. I was so taken with it that I brought it home and transcribed my favorites into a notebook. Like the best proverbs, most of them have staying power; forty years later, when I’m struggling with a difficult personal problem, “The smoothest way is full of stones” will occur to me, almost automatically, and in the original: De glaykhster veg iz ful mit shteyner. Accompanied with a deep, prayerful sigh, those words make the stones somehow more bearable.
Proverbial wisdom transfers well from culture to culture, but the particular humor and hardships of shtetl life shine through in Yiddish proverbs. Taken as a whole the words are bittersweet, like the notes of Klezmer music. You imagine with sadness a vanished world that flourished just a lifetime ago. Either from an extreme concision, or perhaps because I’m a slow study, several appear to have more than one interpretation. But that’s another thing to love about them.
The following are some favorites:
Az a nar shvaygt, vert er oykh gerekhnt tsvishn di kluge.
When a fool is silent, he too is thought clever.
Here is a proverb Mark Twain would have appreciated. One of his all-time pet peeves was people who can’t govern their tongues. “It is better to keep your mouth closed and let people think you are a fool than to open it and remove all doubt.” In my experience, people prone to silence sometimes have the most to say. I’ve certainly encountered others who were eloquent in their silence, whether they were fools or not.
Az men ligt oyf der erd, ken men nit faln.
He that lies on the ground cannot fall.
At first reading this could be interpreted as a tribute to humility. The better interpretation: falling is a part of succeeding in life. Stand up.
Der emes shtarbt nit, ober er lebt vi an oreman.
Truth never dies, but it lives a wretched life.
What can you say about this one? It cuts to the heart of our beautiful, broken world.
Di sheverste melokhe iz leydik tsu geyn.
The hardest work is to go idle.
If you’ve ever spent the day in a stupor of what the monastics called acedia, with little will to do what needs to be done, you’ll know that idleness is hard work indeed and makes time a river of oozing sludge. Conversely, the state of being happily absorbed in one’s work gives us a foretaste of eternity.
Dos Gan-Eydn un dem gehenem ken men hobt oyf der velt.
Heaven and Hell can be had in this world.
Although the originator of this proverb would have lived long before Auschwitz, has anything come closer to what the modern mind imagines as Hell on earth?
Mit lign kumt men vayt, ober nit tsurik.
A lie will take you far, but it will not take you home again.
We’ve all seen our share of politicians who ‘dissemble’, financiers who defraud, clergy who are hypocrites. Integrity is a priceless possession, whether you live in a tent or a mansion.
Das oybershte kleyd fardekt di untershte layd.
The outer dress hides the inner distress.
And often reveals it!
Az men ken khazert tzu fil iber vi gerekht men iz, vert men umgerekht.
Protest long enough that you are right, and you will be wrong.
A bit of family lore: two of my Wisconsin aunts argued so bitterly over whether the cows in a nearby pasture were Jersey or Guernsey that they didn’t speak for years. Since both were intransigent, both were wrong, even if one had the right answer.
A toyber hot gehert, vi a shtummer hot dertseylt, az a blinder hot gezen, via a krumer iz gelofn.
A deaf man heard a mute tell how a blind man saw a cripple run.
I’m not sure what this means, but it doesn’t matter. Perhaps meaning isn’t the point, or perhaps it underscores the absurdity and unreliability of gossip (The fact that this proverb would be unacceptable in some circles—on most college campuses, certainly—gives it special merit).
Ven ale mentshn zoln tsien oy fen zayt, volt zikh di velt ibergekert.
If all pulled in one direction, the world would keel over.
Disagreement is good; it keeps the mind supple. On a lighter note, I wouldn’t want to live in a social order that didn’t tolerate eccentrics.
Ven do mazl kumt, shtel im a shtul.
When fortune calls, offer her a chair.
Preferably a Barcalounger with vibration massage.
Vos shverer me nemt zikh for, alts laykhter helft Got.
The harder your undertaking, the easier God’s help.
I much prefer this to the oft-heard “God never gives us more than we can bear,” which has always struck me as glib. The two proverbs are similar, but this one puts the emphasis on doing, rather than on passive forbearance, and on God’s help, rather than on misfortunes he supposedly gives us.
Ven a shlimazl koylet a hon—geyt er, dreyt er on a zeyger—shteyt er.
The schlemiel kills a rooster—still it hops—he winds up a clock—at once it stops.
We’ve all done time as schlemiels, even if roosters and clocks weren’t involved.
Vos es vet zayn mit Kol-Israel vet zayn mit reb Israel.
Whatever happens to Israel will happen to Mr. Israel.
This proverb, which of course predates 1948, is especially relevant today—and all the more since October 7, 2023.
Its few words give the lie to the claim that slogans like “From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free” aren’t antisemitic, but merely anti-Zionist. If the first mark of a proverb is its truthfulness, then this is surely one to keep close in these fraught times.
Wonderful encouragement and wisdom to wake up too! Thank you. Reminds me of the essence of so many old time Cherokee sayings. I think folks who live through seriously hard times have to dig deep to carry on.......
Truth never dies but it lives a wretched life touched me deeply. I asked a younger family member who supports Palestine (to my horror) "Which river? Which sea?" He became unhinged and shouted "Yes, what happened in Israel was terrible" and could not go on. Yes, I am firmly a Zionist (although the immature people using that word are using it incorrectly). I'm saving this. Thanks for sharing.