Moisés Ville

Jews, be happy at this miraculous hour,

in a corner of Argentina, the meshiach has arrived!

Here there are no Christians,

only small- or big-shot Jews,

the apteiker, the bañero, the comisar, and the judge—

in Moisés Ville,

my little shteitele,

Moisés Ville,

my beautiful heimele,

You’re a yiddishe medine,

you’re the pride of Argentine,

Moisés Ville.

In mitn pueblito, there’s a plaza full of trees,

youth wanders oif der najt,

people say Buenas Noches and the beasts get out,

and take, not once, a shidaj comes outfrom it all—

in Moisés Ville,

my little shteitele,

Moisés Ville,

my beautiful heimele,

you’re a yiddishe medine,

you’re the pride of Argentine,

Moisés Ville.

A radio shpiels tangos, and the public takes a stroll,

wives tell mayses about what in shtetls occurs,

who’s having a tnoim, where there’ll be a bris,

and who on fraytik is burning a knish—

in Moisés Ville,

my little shteitele,

Moisés Ville,

my beautiful heimele,

you’re a yiddishe medine,

you’re the pride of Argentine,

Moisés Ville.

In the plaza stands a mentch, a pundik no doubt,

with wide bombaches, with alpargatas on his feet,

through the bigotes he whistles a Spanish lid,

you can be sure the criollo is a yid—

in Moisés Ville,

my little shteitele,

Moisés Ville,

my beautiful heimele,

you’re a yiddishe medine,

you’re the pride of Argentine,

Moisés Ville.