To say words in the way of a poem

To sing words praising the [spring] path

With its wildflowers and skyblue light

And perfume of the days of Nisan.

In an instant, flocks of birds pass

Tops of cypress trees sway in the wind

A chamsin is expected, windows are open

The broom bush is white with flowers.

This is a path of song, be still and listen:

Cypress , chamsin, flowers of the field.

This is the language of the hidden root

Rising up to you

From the recesses of the earth.

And if moments of the song were harvested

And some words remained on the path

They would soon open, a blossoming flower

The days of Nisan becoming complete.

And one day, before tomorrow,

To come again with the song of the path

This is a path of song: changing, passing,

Perfume of the days of Nisan.

This is a path of song ...