Hayo hayu kan pa'am shikmim,
cholot misaviv vegam nof.
Ha'ir Tel Aviv shel otam hayamim
haytah bayit boded al hachof.
Veyesh lif'amim ne'erchu yeshivot
mitachat shikmim az batzel,
uleyad ha'etzim tzachaku habanot
ve'anu bezimrah: "hey yalel"
Ken, zehu, ken, zehu
zeh gan hashikmim
hayu gam ka'eleh
ei az bayamim.
Gid'lah Tel Aviv mis'vivah parvarim
hakol bah tuch'nan veniv'dak.
Niv'nu bah k'vishim, nish'kachu hashikmim
vehil'bin az rosham me'avak.
Hakol kan niv'nah bekitz'vo shel hador -
chanuyot uvatei shechakim,
ach (ve)rak im naf'neh mabateinu achrov,
nizacher beshikmim yerukim.
Hayom hashikmim ne'elmu ve'einam -
rak shelet et sh'mad od maz'kir,
kamah tziporim vesaf'sal meyutam
nitzav belibah shel ha'ir.
Umoshech hu elav, ksheha'erev yored
(venosh'rim min ha'etz he'alim)
ve'olim bamarom kochavim,
kab'tzan min harechov o helech boded
o zug tze'irim ohavim.
Once upon a time there were sycamores here,
sand-dunes all around and even a scenery.
The city of Tel Aviv of those days
was a lonely house on the shore.
And there were times that meetings were set
back then under sycamores in the shade,
and next to the trees the girls laughed
and answered in song: "hey howl!"
Yes, this is it, yes, this is it
this is the sycamore garden
there were even (others) like this
some time back in the days.
Tel Aviv raised suburbs around itself
everything in it is planned and checked.
Roads were built in it, the sycamores forgotten
and their heads whitened from dust.
Everything here is built in the generation's rhythm
stores and skyscrapers,
but (and) only if we turn back,
we'll remember green sycamores.
Yes, this is it...
Today the sycamores disappeared and aren't -
just the sign of religious persecution still reminds,
a few birds and and an orphaned bench
stood in the heart of the city.
And it pulls (you) to it, as the evening descends
(and leaves fall from the tree)
and stars up high ascend,
a beggar from the street or a lonely wanderer
or a couple of young lovers.
Yes, this is it...