Yachne-Dvoshe's
in a dither
Packing for the market-place,
She is off to buy flour
For to bake the Purim cakes
Chorus:
Ho, my hamentaschen
Ho, my white delight,
Ho, my hamentaschen
Didn't come out quite right.
It's raining and it's snowing,
And the roofs are dripping,
Yachne's bringing corn meal home
In a bag that's ripping.
She bought no honey, no
poppy seed,
And quite forget the yeast,
But Yachne's making hamentaschen
They're in the oven at least.
Yachne's carrying her Purim
gift
To her mother-in-law,
Two or three hamentaschen
Half-burned and half-raw.
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Yachne dvoshe
for in shtot
Halt sich in ein pak'n
Zi darf oif purim koif'n mel
Homentaschen bak'n
Chorus:
Hop maine homentaschen
Hop maine vaise
Hop maine homentaschen
Hot parsit a maise
S'geit a reg'n s'geit
a shnei
S'kapet fun de decher
Yachne firt shoin korn mel
In a zak mit lecher
Nicht kayn honig, nisht
kayn mon
Un fargesen hayven
Yachne macht shoyn homentaschen
Es bakt zich shoyn in ayv'in.
Yachne trogt shoin shalachmones
Tzu der mumen yente
Tzveidrei shvartze homentaschen
Halb roi; hald farbrebte.
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