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Is it true ?

Is is true, days will come with forgiveness and grace
You will walk in the field, like an innocent traveler
Your naked foot will fondel the lucerne grass
And the spica's thorns will prick you, and the pricking will be sweet.
 
A shower will get you with all it's pounding drops
On your shoulder, chest, neck and refresh your head
You will walk in the wet field, and quiet will grow in you,
Like the light at the edge of the cloud.
 
You breathed in the smell of the ploughman breath and relax
You saw the sun, like a mirror in the golden puddle
Simple are the things, and life, they can be touched
And it is permitted to love.
 
You will walk alone in the field, you will not burn in the heat
The fires in the roads, stiffened from panic and blood.
And with all your honest heart, you will be modest and submissive
Like the grass, like a human being.
 

Seashells are sometimes

Versions: #1
Chofim hem lif'amim ga'agu'im lenachal.
Ra'iti pa'am chof
shenachal azavo
Im lev shavur shel chol va'even.
Veha'adam, veha'adam
Hu lif'amim gam ken yachol lehisha'er
Natush uvli kochot, mamash k'mo chof.
 
Gam hatz'dafim,
k'mo chofim, k'mo haru'ach
Gam hatz'dafim hem lif'amim ga'agu'im
Levayit shetamid ahavnu.
Asher hayah verak hayam
Shar levado sham et shirav.
 
Kach bein tzid'fei libo shel ha'adam, sharim lo ne'urav.
 

A Meeting Without End

For you have stormed on me, forever I shall play you (as playing music)
To avail I shall besiege you with a wall, to avail I shall erect doors!
My lust is to you and to me your garden
And to me my body is dizzy, lost for hands!
 
To the books only you are the sin and the judge.
Sudden forever, my eyes on you are struck,
When in a battled street, bleeding raspberry sunsets,
You will bundle me in sheaves.
 
Don’t plead to those who withdraw from approaching
All alone I shall be a nomad in your lands.
My prayer seeks nothing,
My prayer is one and its saying: here you are (as: take this)!
 
Till the ends of sadness, till the springs of night,
In long empty iron streets,
My god commanded me to carry to your babies,
From my great poverty/suffering almonds and raisins.
 
It's good that our heart your hand sill caches,
Don’t pity it when its tired of running,
Don’t let it darken as a room
without the stars left outside.
 
There a moon it burning hot as a kiss from a (lady) cook.
There a damp sky thunders its cough,
There a sycamore will drop its branch for me as a Handkerchief
And I shall bow to it and pickup.
 
And I know that to the sound of the drum
In deaf and sorry/hurting commerce cities
One day I will fall injured head to pluck
Our smile between the chariots.
 

I Will Go Crazy

I'll go crazy when you say hello
i don't understand how i got so far
because if you will want to go, it will be a complete disaster1
more difficult than death, it will be the end of the world.
 
A nightmare like this exceeds all imagination
come and together we will stop the clock
this is love that doesn't have any logic
this is love and will end in humiliation
i can't breath
surely this is crazy, is choking my throat
you were my first and will be my last...
 

• 1. lit: hell

When you grow up you’ll understand

Mom when will I already be big?
In a couple of years, my child.
And will I have a baby in the stroller?
Of course, you’ll have, my child.
Mom does the dog have a father?
Sure.
And grandpa?
Perhaps.
I don’t have a grandpa why?
‘cause your grandpa is in heaven, isn’t he?
How did he reach there with a ladder?
No, it’s difficult to explain. Believe me, when you grow up you’ll understand.
 
Mom at night I had a dream and there was in it a star with a face.
Mom what is the dream a picture or a place?
It’s a story you see when you are asleep.
Mom did Ronit get well?
Sure.
Fully?
Perhaps.
What is a doctor?
A healer.
Why?
He is called a healer because he is a healing man.
Why not everybody is a healer only sick?
Off hand it’s difficult to explain. Believe me, when you grow up you’ll understand.
 
Mom a moon is a kind of a stone?
Yes, big, huge and white,
But it’s very, awfully far away so it looks small.
Mom a baby it’s in the tummy?
Sure.
And you will have one?
Perhaps.
I don’t have a big tummy.
No, you don’t have,
Now you are small so it isn’t possible.
How is the baby there inside like a butterfly?
No, it’s difficult to explain. Believe me, when you grow up you’ll understand.
 
And only I and the answers in my mouth
Know the big secret
That even when you grow up you don’t understand.
Just simply, one day
You stop asking.
 

Praises of the Fortress (Shivchei Maoz)

To you, fortress and rock of my salvation,
It is delightful to offer praises.
Far away, far away near my home
The orchards yield their fragrance
 
I'll come through tunnels and fortresses and caves
Rocky crevices and dusty burrows
Somewhere in the heart of the night, tense and still
Someone seeking my life is watching me
 
Fortress and rock of my salvation,
A stubborn and tough stronghold
Almond trees near my home
Stand in blossoming whiteness
 
I'll come through tunnels and fortresses and caves
Rocky crevices and dusty burrows
Somewhere in the heart of the night, tense and still
Someone seeking my life is looking at me
 
Fortress and rock of my salvation,
In endless battle it will triumph
To me my sister Ayelet
Will send a tired smile
 
I'll come through tunnels and fortresses and caves
Rocky crevices and dusty burrows
Somewhere in the heart of the night, tense and still
Someone seeking my life is lurking
 
Woe to him from my sting
And woe to him from my honey
Woe to him who seeks my life
 

Yossi, My Little Champ

The sun is bright in the sky above
Mother sends out her son Yossi
“Go, bring a bottle of milk,
Go straight there and don’t forget,
Yossi, my little champ.”
 
Yossi strides along the street
And suddenly his eyes alight on.....
He rushes, he runs and before him
A poor, limping puppy
Which he embraces in his arms
 
Mother is waiting at home:
“Where is Yossi? We have no milk!
But look, my boy comes with.....
What is this!?” “I brought you as a gift
A darling little puppy.”
“Oh my God, my little champ....”
 
The sun is bright in the sky above
Mother sends out her son Yossi
“Go, bring me a loaf of
Warm bread - but don’t forget,
Yossi, my little champ.”
 
The street is winking at him
And suddenly his eyes wander again:
Music resounds in his ears
A small harmonica glitters at him,
And he puts it to his lips.
 
Mother is waiting at home:
“Where is Yossi? There is no bread
But look, my boy comes with...
What is this?!” Yossi is playing music.
“I brought a harmonica, for you.”
“Oh my God, my little champ....”
 
The sun is bright in the sky above
Mother sends out her son Yossi
“Bring me at least some olives,
That’s all (I ask), but don’t forget,
“Yossi, my little champ.”
 
The street whispers, “Yossi”
Look, his eyes are darting around again.
Why is he rushing? Ahead of him
Is a reddish flower, 'Hey – Yossi'!!
His nose is all distracted.
 
Mother is waiting at home,
“Oh God, Yossi, we don’t have olives
But look, my boy comes with ...
What is this!?” “I would give you anything.
Take it, the flower is for you!”
“Oh my God, my little champ....”
 
The house is empty - no milk,
Out of bread, and not as much as an olive (1).
But the house is chock-full
Of love, song, and the scent of a flower,
And the barking of a little doggy.
 

Every Man Has a Name

Every man has a name
given to him by God
and by his father and mother
 
Every man has a name
given to him by his stature
and by the manner of his smile
and by his clothes
 
Every man has a name
given to him by the mountains
and by the walls of his house
 
Every man has a name
given to him by the zodiac
and by his neighbors
 
Every man has a name
Every man has a name
 
Every man has a name
given to him by his sins
and by his yearnings
 
Every man has a name
given to him by his enemies
and by his love
 
Every man has a name
given to him by his holidays
and by his profession
 
Every man has a name
given to him by the seasons
and by his blindness
 
Every man has a name
Every man has a name
 
Every man has a name
given to him by God
and by his father and mother
 
Every man has a name
given to him by the sea
and by his death
 

Song of Tishrei*

Versions: #2
The sky is changing
before the eyes of the farmers.
The neighbors are getting ready
for the Days of Atonement.
 
Somebody is thinking of you
and writing down your deeds.
Come home quickly
with the cool wind.
Come home quickly
with the cool wind.
 
Mandarins ripen
in the orchard at their time.
The teachers cough
and go to bed early.
 
I've already seen a wagtail**
and maybe I just imagined it-
another heat wave ended yesterday.
Summer vacation has ended.
Another heat wave ended yesterday.
Summer vacation has ended.
 
'What will happen and what will pass?'
ask the reporters,
as along Highway 2
the sea squills stand straight.
 
In the evening newspapers
what does the headline say?
Come home quickly
with the cool wind.
Come home quickly.
 

מלאכה־מלוכה

ווער עס ווייסט ניט
ווער עס ווייסט ניט
זאל אצינדער וויסן
זאל אצינדער וויסן
ווי שווער און ביטער
קארג און שיטער
קומט אונדז אן דער ביסן
שווער און ביטער
קארג און שיטער
קומט אונדז אן דער ביסן
 
היי לעבעדיק פריילעך
לעבעדיק פריילעך
וואס איז דא דער חידוש
וואס איז דא דער חידוש
מלאכה מלוכה
זינגט במנוחה
א לידעלע א יידיש
מלאכה מלוכה
זינגט במנוחה
א לידעלע א יידיש
 
בין אין מיר א סטאליערל
רופט מען מיר רב פישל
רופט מען מיר רב פישל
כ׳מאך א טיר א פענסערל
א בענקעלע א טישל
 
טאנצט און זינגט מיין זייגעלע
שניידניק די ברעטלעך
שניידניק די ברעטלעך
באפוצן וועט דאך אונדזער מי
דערפעלך און שטעטלעך
 
ווער עס ווייסט ניט
ווער עס ווייסט ניט
זאל אצינדער וויסן
זאל אצינדער וויסן
ווי שווער און ביטער
קארג און שיטער
קומט אונדז אן דער ביסן
שווער און ביטער
קארג און שיטער
קומט אונדז אן דער ביסן
 
היי לעבעדיק פריילעך
לעבעדיק פריילעך
וואס איז דא דער חידוש
וואס איז דא דער חידוש
מלאכה מלוכה
זינגט במנוחה
א לידעלע א יידיש
מלאכה מלוכה
זינגט במנוחה
א לידעלע א יידיש
 
בין איך מיר א שניידערל
רופט מען מיך רב בערל
רופט מען מיך רב בערל
ניי איך מיטן נעדעלע
שנייד איך מיטן שערל
 
אויסגעפּוצט דאס נגידל
איז עס מלא שמחה
איז עס מלא שמחה
נאר דעם שניידערס יורשל
הונגערן איז א מומחה
 
ווער עס ווייסט ניט
ווער עס ווייסט ניט
זאל אצינדער וויסן
זאל אצינדער וויסן
ווי שווער און ביטער
קארג און שיטער
קומט אונדז אן דער ביסן
שווער און ביטער
קארג און שיטער
קומט אונדז אן דער ביסן
 
היי לעבעדיק פריילעך
לעבעדיק פריילעך
וואס איז דא דער חידוש
וואס איז דא דער חידוש
מלאכה מלוכה
זינגט במנוחה
א לידעלע א יידיש
מלאכה מלוכה
זינגט במנוחה
א לידעלע א יידיש
 
בין איך מיר א שוסטערל
קלאפּ איך מיר א פלעקל
קלאפּ איך מיר א פלעקל
אנגעטון א פארטוכל
דארף איך נישט קיין רעקל
 
גיסט און גיסט א רעגנדל
וואקסט און וואקסט די בלאטע
זיץ איך אויף דעם בענקעלע
לאטעווע און לאטע
 
ווער עס ווייסט ניט
ווער עס ווייסט ניט
זאל אצינדער וויסן
זאל אצינדער וויסן
ווי שווער און ביטער
קארג און שיטער
קומט אונדז אן דער ביסן
שווער און ביטער
קארג און שיטער
קומט אונדז אן דער ביסן
 
היי לעבעדיק פריילעך
לעבעדיק פריילעך
וואס איז דא דער חידוש
וואס איז דא דער חידוש
מלאכה מלוכה
זינגט במנוחה
א לידעלע א יידיש
מלאכה מלוכה
זינגט במנוחה
א לידעלע א יידיש