Hayiti b'Paris vegam b'Roma
Ra'iti et shiv'at pil'ei tevel
Bakotev hatzfoni vegam daroma
Ach ein makom kmo Eretz Yisrael.
Uch'mo gluyot shel nof yafot
Tmunot bezichroni afot
Kmo be'ad adasha shel matzlema.
Betarmili otan esa
Bechawl makom, bechawl masa
Kit'ei p'seifas mitoch tmuna shleima.

Shalom lach eretz nehederet
Avdech hadal nosei lach shir mizmor
Gam im le'itim noded ani al derech -
Mah tov lindod ach tov yoter lachzor.

Tz'richei hamigdalim birushalayim
Vesimte'ot hashuk hatziv'oni;
Gagot hare'afim shel Giv'atayim
Hanibatim mib'ad chaloni.
Et ha'aviv b'Tel Aviv
Et savati ve'et savi
Et hachallah ve'et nerot Shabbat.
Et Yam Hamelach mul Edom
Ve'eshet Lot tzofa liS'dom
Ve'et hakayitz bo'acha Eilat.

Shalom lach eretz nehederet....

Meimeha hak'chulim shel haKineret
Veharaki'a hato'em mei'al.
Vehargashat habayit hamukeret
Betoch orkai zoremet kmo chasmal.
Harei Galil vehaShomron,
Hapardesim shebaSharon,
Viyeladim began hamoshava;
Et haKarmel ve'et hayam
Echad echad ve'et kulam
Tamid kortzim, omrim "Baruch Haba."

Shalom lach eretz nehederet......

I was in Paris and also in Rome,
I saw the seven wonders of the world,
At the North Pole and also at the South,
But there's no place like the Land of Israel.
And like postcards of beautiful scenery
Pictures fly through my memory
As if through the lens of a camera.
In my backpack I carry them,
everywhere, on every journey
Pieces of a mosaic within the whole picture.

Peace to you, lovely country
Your poor servant carries a song of praise to you.
Though sometimes I wander on the road -
How good it is to wander, but even better to return.

The turrets of the towers in Jerusalem,
And alleyways of the colorful street market;
The tile roofs of Givatayim, which are seen through my window.
Springtime in Tel Aviv,
My grandmother and my grandfather,
The challah and the Shabbat candles.
The Dead Sea opposite the hills of Edom
And Lot's wife looking towards Sodom
And the summertime, as you approach Eilat.

Peace to you, lovely country...

The blue waters of Kineret
And the matching sky above.
And the familiar feeling of home
Flows like electricity within my veins.
The mountains of the Galil, and Shomron
The orchards in the Sharon,
And children in the garden of a moshava;
The Carmel and the sea,
Each one separately, and all of them,
Always wink to me, saying "Welcome!"

Peace to you, lovely country...


Click here for the pdf file in Hebrew

LYRICS (Hebrew) Ilan Goldhirsch
SINGER - Hebrew Yehoram Gaon
CD Double Album CD Od Lo Ahavti Dai  Track 2
40 Golden Hits Album   Disk 2, Track 16
ORIGINAL SONG City of New Orleans by Steve Goodman
SINGER - English Arlo Guthrie
The City of New Orleans
by Steve Goodman

Riding on the City of New Orleans,
Illinois Central Monday morning rail
Fifteen cars and fifteen restless riders,
Three conductors and twenty-five sacks of mail.
All along the southbound odyssey
The train pulls out at Kankakee
Rolls along past houses, farms and fields.
Passin' trains that have no names,
Freight yards full of old black men
And the graveyards of the rusted automobiles.

Good morning America how are you?
Don't you know me I'm your native son.
I'm the train they call The City of New Orleans,
I'll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done.

Dealin' card games with the old men in the club car.
Penny a point ain't no one keepin' score.
Pass the paper bag that holds the bottle
Feel the wheels rumblin' 'neath the floor.
And the sons of pullman porters
And the sons of engineers
Ride their father's magic carpets made of steel.
Mothers with their babes asleep,
Are rockin' to the gentle beat
And the rhythm of the rails is all they feel.


Nighttime on The City of New Orleans,
Changing cars in Memphis, Tennessee.
Half way home, we'll be there by morning
Through the Mississippi darkness
Rolling down to the sea.
And all the towns and people seem
To fade into a bad dream
And the steel rails still ain't heard the news.
The conductor sings his song again,
The passengers will please refrain
This train's got the disappearing railroad blues.

Good night, America, how are you?
Don't you know me, I'm your native son.
I'm the train they call The City of New Orleans.
I'll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done.

The words to this song were transliterated and translated by
Malka Tischler of New York

Contact the publisher of Hebrew

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