BITI AT BOCHA O TZOCHEKET
BAYIT YAROK
Pagaz acharon hitpotzetz veshatak,
atfah had'mamah et ha'emek.
Yaldah begadot yatz'ah mimiklat,
ve'ein batim od bemeshek.
Ima, hayah lanu bayit yarok
im aba vebubah veshesek.
Habayit eineno, ve'aba rachok,
imi at bocha o tzocheket.
Habiti lemalah, biti, el hahar,
hahar shehayah kemifletzet.
Od yesh totachim, yaldati, al hahar,
ach hem me'aymim al d'meshek.
Habiti lemalah, biti, lagolan,
sham yesh chayalim, ach lehaba -
d'galam batz'vaim shel kachol velavan,
bocheh o tzochek sham gam aba.
Yihyeh lanu bayit yarok, yaldati,
im aba vebubah veshesek,
ve'lo od eima, yaldati, yaldati,
biti at bocha o tzocheket.
Shki'ot be'adom uz'richot bezahav
pog'shot beyarok uvamayim.
Uvli totachim shel oyev al hahar
yorik od ha'emek kef'laim.
Zorem hayarden, mitpatel keshikor,
prichah et ha'emek nosheket.
Ve'ish lo yasav et miyamav le'achor,
biti at bocha o tzocheket.
Zorem hayarden, bein gadot ya'avor,
prichah et ha'emek nosheket,
ve'ish lo yasav et miyamav le'achor,
biti at bocha o tzocheket,
biti at bocha o tzocheket.
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MY DAUGHTER ARE YOU CRYING OR LAUGHING
GREEN HOUSE
The last shell exploded and went silent,
the silence enveloped the valley.
A girl at the banks went out from a shelter
and there are no more houses on the farm.
Mom, we had a green house
with Dad and a doll and a loquat
The house is no longer, Dad is far,
My Mother, are you crying or laughing.
Look up, my daughter, to the mountain,
the mountain that was as a monster.
There are still cannons, my girl, on the hill,
but they are threatening Damascus.
Look up, my daughter, to the Golan,
there are soldiers there, but in the future -
their flags are coloured blue and white,
Dad is crying or laughing there too.
We will have a green house, my girl,
with Dad and a doll and a loquat
and no more terror, my girl, my girl,
my daugther, are you crying or laughing.
Sunsets in red and sunrises in gold
meet in the green and the water.
And without enemy cannons on the hill
the valley will yet turn green doubly.
The Jordan flows, winding like a drunk,
the bloom kisses the valley.
And nobody will turn back from his days,
my daugther, are you crying or laughing.
The Jordan flows, it'll pass the banks,
the bloom kisses the valley.
And nobody will turn back from his days,
my daugther, are you crying or laughing,
my daugther, are you crying or laughing.
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