Chag Hameshek
Kayitz shehigiya el sofo
Umah shelo hispaknu ulai lo yavo.
Bein hapardess levein harefet -
Chazarot lechag hameshek.
Od me’at tatchil hamilchamah.
Kayitz shemalei ga’agu’im
Tzarich liktof et hakutnah lifnei geshamim.
P(e)rusot ugah al hamirpeset
Hagefen metapeset
Ra’iti yeladim k(e)tanim ratzim.
Kol od ani zocher et zeh
Kol od ani noshem et zeh.
Kol yom ani bocheh al zeh, kol lailah,
Kol od ani tzo’ek et zeh,
Az mashehu holech itanu hal’ah.
Kayitz shehayah kan venigmar
Vehakibbutz kfar lo yihyeh oto davar.
Im mi narutz achshav badesheh
Unesachek tofeset?
Im mi nisa’ betractor el hayam?
Kayitz shehigiya el sofo
Kamah tza’ar veche’ev heivi ito.
Bein hapardess levein harefet,
Nigmar kvar chag hameshek.
Matai kvar tigamer hamilchamah ?
Kol od ani zocher et zeh
Kol od ani noshem et zeh
Kol yom ani bocheh al zeh, kol lailah,
Kol od ani nishbar mizeh,
Az mashehu od nishar mizeh,
Az mashehu holech itanu hal’ah.
Kol yom ani nisraf mizeh,
K(e)tzat chai – aval kvar met mizeh.
Kol yom ani bocheh al zeh, kol lailah,
Kol od ani tzo’ek et zeh,
Az mashehu od nishar mizeh,
Hu kan vehu mamshich itanu hal’ah.
Kol od ani tzo’ek et zeh,
Az mashehu od nishar mizeh,
Umashehu mamshich itanu hal’ah.
Umashehu nishar itanu hal’ah.
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Harvest Fest
A summer that has reached its end,
Yet what we didn’t manage may still happen.
Between the orchard and the byre,
Rehearsals are underway for the harvest fest.
In a short while, begins the war.
A summer replete with nostalgia:
We need to pick the cotton before the rains;
Slices of cake, sitting on the veranda,
The grapevine climbing upward;
I saw little children running around.
For as long as I remember this,
For as long as I breathe it.
Each day, I cry over this, every night,
For as long as I shout it out,
Something will go forward with us.
A summer once here, now is past
And the kibbutz will never be the same again.
With whom shall we now run across the grass
And play hide and seek?
Or ride on the tractor to the sea?
A summer that has reached its end,
How much sorrow and pain came with it.
Between the orchard and the byre,
The harvest fest’s long gone.
When will this war finally be over?
For as long as I remember this,
For as long as I breathe it.
Each day I cry over this, every night,
For as long as this tears me apart,
Something still remains of it
And something will go forward with us.
Each day, it burns me through,
Partially alive – but already dead from it.
Each day, I cry over this, every night.
For as long as I shout it out,
Something still remains of this,
It’s present and moves forward with us.
For as long as I can shout it out,
Something still remains of it,
And something moves forward with us –
Something remains with us, for times ahead.
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