SHEDEMATI
O, my field,
That I sewed at morn in tears –
The yeoman’s prayer was heard.
My field drank in the heavy dew,
Imbibed the sun’s warm light.
Before the stooping reaper came,
Its stalks bowed low with grain.
With easy stride his scythe did fall
And swing again up high.
With easy stride, an upward swing
Then blade did fall and rise,
And swing again up high.
O, my field,
In golden tresses on the ground,
Its ripe bounty – our delight.
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MY FIELD
Shedemati
Im shachar zera’tiha bedim’ah,
T’filat hayogev nishma’ah.
Shedemati ravta t’lalim,
Shachrah mei’or chamah,
Lifnei kotzer shachah, shachah kamah.
Betza’ad kal chermesh kalal,
Yunaf el al.
Betza’ad kal yunaf
Chermesh kalal yunaf,
Yunaf el al.
Shedemati
Zahav names shafuch al adamah,
Rinateinu al hakamah.
Hoy…
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| LYRICS |
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| MUSIC |
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| SINGER |
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| CD |
| Ofra Haza Shirey Moledet Part 1+2 Track 13 |
| The Dudaim 30th Anniversary Track 7 |
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| DANCE CHOREOGRAPHER |
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| DANCE FORMAT |
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| DANCE CHOREOGRAPHER |
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| DANCE FORMAT |
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