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When Oriana asked me,
“When shall we meet again in the plaza?”
I laughed, I said “Ma?ana!”
I laughed and told her – tomorrow.
But by tomorrow, Oriana,
It all had become so strange.
Love passed, Oriana,
It fled who knows where,
Love hates to hear “tomorrow”
It wants us to say, Oriana,
Tonight, this minute, now.

Thus, ever since, I have waited
And more than once, with a bitter and heavy heart,
I’ve said: Perhaps I made a mistake,
I must fix that tomorrow.
But the days flew by, Oriana,
And youth came to an end.
The years passed, Oriana,
They fled who knows where,
They hate to hear “tomorrow”
They want us to say, Oriana,
Tonight, this minute, now.

Meanwhile I still tried to accumulate
Riches and honor and such
But these wouldn’t come yet,
Each day they promised “tomorrow.”
So life flew by, Oriana,
Washed away like sand.
Life passed, Oriana,
Fled who knows where,
Because it hated to say “tomorrow”
Because it wanted you, Oriana,
Tonight, this minute, now.

If the final day comes, Oriana,
To say this is the end, it’s over
I’ll laugh and I’ll tell it “Ma?ana!”
I’ll laugh and say, “Come back tomorrow!”
But the final day, Oriana,
Will say there is no more tomorrow.
Tomorrow has passed, Oriana,
Fled who knows where,
But it always remembered you,
Because it loved you, Oriana,
Tonight, this minute, now.

Photo of Artist & Hebrew words

Natan Alterman
Yair Rosenblum
Yardena Arazi
Rivka Zohar
Avi Peretz

Words transliterated by George Jakubovits of Toronto, Ontario, Canada.
Words translated by Leslie (Ariela Rosen) Levy of Syosset, NY, USA.
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