Se’ar aroch, shachor mishchor,
mabat eine’a ketal tahor,
ora lavan vehi kulah
tfillah asher halev tzame la.

Oh oh oh, Pamela.

Hayta overet bechol yom,
ota sha’a, oto makom,
hu lo yad’a et shma, aval
haya libo homeh: Pamela.

Oh oh oh, Pamela.

Veyom echad hi ne’elma
Mikol dmuta notar lo shma
Vehu toheh ayim emet
O rak chalom hayita Pamela.

Oh oh oh, Pamela.

Long hair, black of black,
Her eye-sight like pure dew,
Her skin white, and she all is
A prayer to which the heart is thirsty.

Oh oh oh, Pamela.

She was passing every day,
Same hour, same place,
He didn’t know her name, but
His heart was wispering: Pamela.

Oh oh oh, Pamela.

And one day she disappeared,
of her image only the name was left,
and he wonders whether she had been
real or just a dream, Pamela.

Oh oh oh, Pamela.

Capelli lunghi, nera giada,
lo sguardo puro di rugiada,
la pelle candida. Preghiera
che il cuore, assetato, anela...

Oh, oh, oh, Pamela.

Lui ogni giorno la vedeva,
sempre a quell’ora, che passava,
il vero nome non sapeva,
ma sussurrava il cuor: “Pamela...”.

Oh, oh, oh, Pamela.

Ma poi sparì, e chi sa come
restò l’immagine e quel nome
e lui si chiede se fu vera,
o solo un sogno fu Pamela.

Oh, oh, oh, Pamela.