Shvil Tapu’ach HaZahav
Im beged pashut u’ferach bar
Ata mehalech kach le’it’cha
Levad levad bein hashvilim
Chalomcha hayachid kmo kochav
Boded lo ei sham bamerchav
U’bapardes kvar ba’a prichat zahav

Ata zocher et hayamim
Shel ahava betzel etsim
Ve’et hashvil, nigun chalil
Tapuach hazahav
Ata zocher et haprichot
Ve’et raglai hayechafot
Nigun chalil, klipot hazahav
Shebatapuach, shebatapuach

Ata hapaytan she’avad lo shir
U’mechapes bein hashvilim ma sheyazkir
Ken, ken

U’kshe’ani bechalomcha
Tovelet be’ahavatecha
Ze shvil tapuach hazahav
Ze hatapuach
U’kshe’ani shvuya shelcha
Be’jeans u’seret u’tsama
Uma nish’ar, ken ma nish’ar?

Al tit’ya’esh, al titsta’er
Ken, ken, od yesh lehizacher
Lishneinu hayom nish’ar hachalom
Nish’ar hachalom harachok
Lishneinu hayom nish’ar hachalom harachok
U’vanu hena rak lishtok

Ata zocher et hayamim
Shel ahava betzel etsim
Ve’et hashvil, nigun chalil
Tapuach hazahav
Ata zocher et haprichot
Ve’et raglai hayechafot
Nigun chalil, klipot hazahav
She-Ba-Tapu’ach, She-Ba-Tapu’ach

Golden Apple Path
With a simple garment and a wild flower
you are walking about so slowly
all alone among the paths
your only dream, like a star
alone somewhere in space
and in the grove already came the golden bloom

you remember the days of love
in the shade of the trees
and the path, sound of the flute
the golden apple
you remember the blooms,
and my bare feet
sound of the flute, golden peels
that are in the apple, that are in the apple

You are the poet who lost a song
and you’re looking among the paths
for something that will remind you…yes, yes
and when I’m in your dream
immersed in your love
this is the golden apple path
this is the apple
and when I am your captive
in jeans, ribbon and a braid
and what else is there?
Yes, what else is there?

Don’t despair, don’t be sorry,
yes yes, we still need to remember
for both of us the dream remains
the faraway dream remains
for both of us the faraway dream remains
we came here only to be silent

you remember the days of love
in the shade of the trees
and the path, sound of the flute
the golden apple
you remember the blooms,
and my bare feet
sound of the flute, golden peels
that are in the apple, that are in the apple
that are in the apple