The Boxer:
Translation: Annie Gawenda

V1
Kh’bin a yingl oyf di tsores
Keyner veyst nisht ver ikh bin
Kh’hob farloyrn ale koykhes
Far a keshene mit verter
Keyner halt nisht vort

Alts falsh geven
Men farshteyt nor vos men vil farshteyn
Men hert dokh nisht di resht
Mmm

V2
Fun der heym bin ikh avek aleyn   
Kh’bin a  bokher gor  geven
Kh’hob gekhavert zikh mit fremde
In der shtilkeyt fun a vokzal
A dershrokener

Ayngeleygt, zikh gedreyt in dales hayzer
In di gasn gants aleyn
Elnt zikh geblondzhet
Keyner veyst nisht vu

Lay lay lay…
V3
Kh’muz fardinen ikh muz esn
Ikh zukh arbet kh’veys nisht vos
Ober keyner get nisht
Bloyz di meydlekh vos shpatsirn
Oyf Seventh Avenue



Der emes iz
Kh’bin geven azoy farloyrn
Kh’hob getreyst zikh dort mit zey
le le le le le le le


V4
Greyt tsu di vinter kleyder
Ergets andersh vil ikh zayn
Vil ikh forn
Vu der New York City vinter
Tut mir mer nisht vey

Onveyzn mir
Dem veg aheym

V5
In der vaytns shteyt a boxer
Un a fakhman is er gor

Oyfn ponim trogt er tseykhns
Fun yeder hant vos hot gehakt
A zets in ponim im derlangt
Shreyt fun kharpe un fun shand

Ikh for aheym ikh for aheym
Nor der kemfer blaybt nosh shteyn
mmmmm

Music and English Lyrics: Paul Simon

Verse 1:
I am just a poor boy
Though my story’s seldom told
I have squandered my resistance
For a pocketful of mumbles
Such are promises
All lies and jest
Still, a man hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest

Mm-mm- Mm-mm-Mm-mm …

Verse 2:
When I left my home and my family
I was no more than a boy
In the company of strangers
In the quiet of the railway station
Running scared
Laying low, seeking out the poorer quarters
Where the ragged people go
Looking for the places only they would know

Lay-la-lay,
Lay-la-lay-lay-lay-lay-lay
Lay-la-lay,
Lay-la-lay-lay-lay-lay-lay, la-la-la-la-lay.

Verse 3:
Asking only workman’s wages
I come looking for a job
But I get no offers
Just a come-on from the whores on Seventh Avenue
I do declare, there were times
When I was so lonesome
I took some comfort there
La-la-la-la-la-la-la
Lay-la-lay,
Lay-la-lay-lay-lay-lay-lay
Lay-la-lay,
Lay-la-lay-lay-lay-lay-lay, la-la-la-la-lay.

Verse 4:
Then I’m laying out my winter clothes
And wishing I was gone
Going home
Where the New York City winters aren’t bleeding me
Leading me
Going home

In the clearing stands a boxer
And a fighter by his trade
And he carries the reminders
Of every glove that laid him down
Or cut him till he cried
In his anger and his shame
“I am leaving, I am leaving”
But the fighter still remains
Mm-mm-mm

Lay-la-lay,
Lay-la-lay-lay-lay-lay-lay
Lay-la-lay,
Lay-la-lay-lay-lay-lay-lay, la-la-la-la-lay.(x 7)