Lo yode’a ma yihyeh,
holech barchov umishtaheh
Be’emtza hayom, lachut vechom
Ne’etzar betachanat ha’otobus,
be’oto makom
Ro’e chaver begalgal hazman,
cholfot tmunot be’enay
Mirechov katan be New York
uven yehuda kan
Ktzat ga’agu’a vesipur yashan
Eifo hem omrim shevet achim gam yachad?
Medurat hashevet ne’elma
nish’ar hapachad
Lo mesha’amem ba’aretz hamuvtachat
Verak hatzchok mitgalgel
im hake’ev beyachad
Verak hatzchok mitgalgel
im hake’ev beyachad
Rikud ha’Hora kvar nadam,
mehasharsheret ma nish’ar
Hachibuk ne’elam
kmo lo kayam
Ulai nish’al et hazaken
vedaroma nisa lesham
Chozer maher lamtzi’ut
umachar od yom shel tacharut
Kmo shatil natu’a kan
eich shecholef lo hazman
Ki od nish’ar chalom chalom katan
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I don’t know what Is going on,
walking in the street and am held up
Middle of the day, humidity and heat
I stop at the bus stop,
in the same place
See a friend in the wheel of time,
pictures passing through my eyes
From a small street in New York
and Ben Yehuda (a street in Tel Aviv) here
A bit of longing and an old story
Where do they say brothers sit together?
The tribe’s bonfire disappeared
but fear stayed
It is not boring in the Promised Land
And only laughter rolls
together with pain
And only laughter rolls
together with pain
The Hora dance has been silent
and what is left of the chain?
Hugging disappeared
like it was never there
May be we will ask the old man**
and will go South
Quickly coming back to reality
and tomorrow another day of rivalry
Like a plant planted here
how time passes
A small dream still remains
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