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In front of Mount Sinai

It's not a tale my friends
It's not a tale my friends
and it's not a passing dream:
behold here in front of Mount Sinai
behold here in front of Mount Sinai
the thorn-bush is burning.
And it is flashing in song,
in the mouths of boys regiments,
and the gates of the city
the sun-roses in hand.
 
(REF)
Oh flame of God, in the eyes of the youth,
oh flame of God - in the roars of engines
this day will yet be retold, my brothers
of the nation's return to Sinai's position
 
My friends, it's nota dream
My friends, it's nota dream
and it's not a dreamer's vision
from back then till this day
from back then till this day
the thorn-bush is burning.
It is flashing in song of strength
in the hearts of God
of the boys of Zion
and the troop of Israel.
 
(REF)
 

He Isn't Very Smart

He isn't very smart, I know,
But he keeps writing me letters,
So beautiful and sad,
He writes: 'How sweet you are.'
 
And believe me, for me,
He's better than those other guys.
And believe her, for her,
He's better than those other guys.
 
He isn't very pretty, I know,
But he wears a T-shirt
And shiny shoes,
And he tells me: 'You're gorgeous.'
 
And believe me, for me...
 
And I'm no beauty queen myself,
But basically, he
Loves me for me,
Because my personality is what matters to him.
 
And believe me, for me...
 
He isn't very rich, I think,
But he keeps promising me
To take me wherever I tell him to,
And that is the type of guy I like.
 
And believe me, for me...
 
He isn't very smart, I know,
And there's a clear sign for that:
He wishes to stay single
And never marry a woman, not even once.
 
And believe me, I've been told that before,
I've been told that before by those other guys.
And believe me, I've been told that before,
I've been told that before by those other guys.
 

I'm Dying

I'm dying to see her tonight - I'm dying
I'm dying to take off my shoes for her - I'm dying
I'm dying from missing her
I'm dying from missing her tonight.
 
And I don't care about my post
And I don't care about the situation
Truly
Truly
 
I'm dying to come all red-eyed - I'm dying
I'm dying to turn on the faucet - I'm dying
I'm dying to wash my ears
I'm dying to wash my ears tonight.
 
And I don't care about my post...
 
I'm dying to open up my shirt - I'm dying
I'm dying to breathe in her scent - I'm dying
To truly have the strength
To truly have the strength to forget.
 
And I don't care about my post...
 
I'm dying to see both of her eyes - I'm dying
I'm dying to go down over her waist - I'm dying
To die between her hips I'm dy-bursting
 
And I don't care about my post...
 
I'm dying to see her tonight - I'm dying
I'm dying to take off my shoes for her - I'm dying
I'm dying to go down over her waist - I'm dying
I'm dying to die between her hips - I'm dying.
 

Your Wonders Have Yet To Cease

Our tiny country, our beautiful country
A homeland with not a scarp of clothing, a barefoot homeland
Accept me to your songs, a beautiful bride
Open your gates to me I shall enter them thanking god 1
 
In the shadow of the grove trees, so far from the sun
Together we shall strike a root here to the earth's heart
To the shining springs, to the deepest wells
A homeland with no title, and an orphaned gypsy
 
Your wonders have yet to cease
The song is still afloat
My heart still hits with night
And whispers quietly
You are the one for me
You are you, mother and daughter
You are the last for me
The little that is left.
 
We shall bring with our clothes the scent of the villages
The citrus trees shall ring the bell of our hearts
There's a silence relaxed
And a beautiful ray of light
And to its light we shall step with a bare foot
 
Your wonders have yet to cease...
 

• 1.

Legend of the Sea

At the heart of the sea, far, far away,
All white 'neath the shining light,
Stands a glorious palace
Wherein a maiden lives alone.
 
And in the tower – the maiden,
All pure, all naive,
Stands in her nakedness –
With only her hair for coverage.
 
None knows from whence
Came the maiden unto this place.
The ocean around is vast, glistening,
Shattering its waves upon the gate.
 
And all day long, the maiden
Sings through the cold winds,
Of spring and light
And of snow and frost.
 
And the songs, words upon words,
Dive into the water.
And in the air, as they fall,
Turn into drops of ocean.
 
None knows from whence...
 
This ocean, the whole ocean,
With all its grandeur and size,
Is not naught but a single song,
Which sings the maiden forever.