Debka Abaya
Etkashet li be-abaya
Ve-etze la-kfar
Al roshi asim kefiya
Al susi adhar
Le’et tzet banot le-shoket
El ha-kfar avo
Sham ulay li mishtokeket
Almat chen, ya ho.
Hey hoisa, dyo di
Otza susli otza li
Al tir’uni she-levad adhar be-mish’oli
Be-shuvi im bat adhara
Almat chen sheli.
Mini boker ve-ad erev
Ze lili bi yach
Be-tza’if etkase – al derech
Ve-chadi li ach
Ki erda lish’ov mi-shoket
Lev el kad yahom
Al suso dodi la-shoket
Lo yavo pit’om.
Hey hoisa, dyo di
Otza susli otza li
Al tir’uni she-levad ashuv mi-shoket li
Ki yavo – imo adhara
Ve-shvilo shvili.
Al tir’uni she-levad ashuv mi-shoket li
Ki yavo – imo adhara
Ve-shvilo shvili.
I will dress up in an abaya (Arab robe)
And go out to the village.
On my head I’ll put a keffiyah (Arab headdress)
On my horse I’ll gallop.
At the time the girls come out to the trough
I’ll come to the village.
Perhaps there a lovely young woman
Is longing for me.
Hey, giddyup!
Rush, my horse, rush for me.
Hey, giddyup!
Rush, my horse, rush for me.
Don’t fear for me, because alone
I gallop on my path.
When I return the girl will ride with me:
My lovely young woman.
Don’t fear for me, because alone
I gallop on my path.
When I return the girl will ride with me:
My lovely young woman.
From morning to evening
(The thought of) this night strikes me.
On the road I’ll cover myself with a veil
And my pitcher will be as a confidant.
As I kneel to draw water from the trough
My heart will pound towards the pitcher.
On my horse, suddenly, my beloved
Will arrive at the trough.
Hey, giddyup!
Rush, my horse, rush for me.
Hey, giddyup!
Rush, my horse, rush for me.
Don’t fear for me, that alone
I’ll return from my trough.
For he will come – with him I’ll gallop
And his path will be my path.
Don’t fear for me, that alone
I’ll return from my trough.
For he will come – with him I’ll gallop
And his path will be my path.
I will dress up in an abaya (Arab robe)
And go out to the village.
On my head I’ll put a keffiyah (Arab headdress)
On my horse I’ll gallop.
At the time the girls come out to the trough
I’ll come to the village.
Perhaps there a lovely young woman
Is longing for me.
Hey, giddyup!
Rush, my horse, rush for me.
Don’t fear for me, that alone
I’ll return from my trough.
For he will come – with him I’ll gallop
And his path will be my path.
Don’t fear for me, that alone
I’ll return from my trough.
For he will come – with him I’ll gallop
And his path will be my path.