Jiddis nyelvű szöveg (forrás)
Ich vill bay aych a kashe freygen,
Zugt mir ver es ken,
Mit vifl tayere farmaygns,
Bensht Gott allamen?
Men kriegt dus nisht far kayne gelt,
Dus krigt men nur im zist,
Und doch, az men farleert dus,
Vie fiel treren men fargist!
A tzvaite gibt men keinem nit,
Es helft nisht kain gevain,
Und der vus hot verloren,
Der vays shoyn vus ich mayn.

A yiddishe momme,
Misht du kein besser in der velt.
A yiddishe momme
Oy vey tzis bisser ven zie fehlt,
Vie shayn und lichtig tzis in hois,
Ven die mama's du,
Vie traurig finster tzvert,
Ven Gott nehmt ihr oyf Oylam habo.
In vasser und fayer,
Vollt sie geloffn fahr ihr kind,
Nisht halt'n ihr tayer.
Dos iz geviss der greste Zind.
Oy vie gliklich und raych
Is der Mensch vus hut,
Az a tayere matune geschenkt fun Gott,
Wie an altechke Yiddishe Momme,
oy momme mein.

Angol fordítás
I want to ask you a heartfelt question
Answer me if you know
What is the most precious gift with which
God has blessed all of us?
You cannot buy it with money
You can only get it for free
And when you lose it
How many tears you shed.
Another one you never get
Nothing can change this
And only whoever has lost it
Understands what I mean

A Jewish mother
There is nothing better in the world
A Jewish mother
Oh how bitter when she is absent
how beautiful and light it is in the house
when the mother is there
how truly dark it is
When God takes her to Heaven
Into water and fire
She would have leapt for her children
Not loving her dearly
This is the greatest sin
Oh how happy and rich
has the person who
has this greatest gift given by God
just an old Jewish momme
oh my momme

Az általánosan ismert angol szöveg:
Of things I should be thankful
for I've had a goodly share
And as I sit here in
the comfort of my cosy chair
My fancy takes me to
a humble eastside tenement
three flights up in the rear to
where my childhood days were spent
It wasn't much like Paradise
but 'mid the dirt and all
There sat the sweetest angel,
one that I fondly call

My yiddishe momme
I need her more then ever now
My yiddishe momme
I'd like to kiss that wrinkled brow
I long to hold her hands
once more as in days gone by
and ask her to forgive me
for things I did that made her cry
How few were her pleasures,
she never cared for fashion's styles
Her jewels and treasures
she found them in her baby's smiles
oh I know that I owe
what I am today
to that dear little lady so old and gray
to that wonderful yiddishe momme
of mine