Oh, my beloved people!
When lamentation overwhelms you,
Our bodies bow down,
And the sunset descends upon us.
Will Jerusalem be lost to us?
Is there no one among us to answer?
The kiss of the holy places was
From a crescent or a cross.
The Golan Heights are not
A tent sheltering the stranger.
This beloved land,
How can we allow it to be abandoned?
No leader has said, "Stop!"
From near or far?
Who will restore the right, tell me?
Our right is a wondrous inheritance.
**
