Yerushalayim Shel Zahav
Avir harim tsalul kayayin
Vere’ach oranim
Nisa baruach ha’arbayim
Im kol pa’amonim

U’v’tardemat ilan va’even
Shvuya bechaloma
Ha’ir asher badad yoshevet
U’v’liba choma

Yerushalayim shel zahav
Ve’shel nechoshet ve’shel or
Halo lechol shirayich
Ani kinor

Yerushalayim shel zahav
Ve’shel nechoshet ve’shel or
Halo lechol shirayich
Ani kinor

Chazarnu el borot hamayim
Lashuk velakikar
Shofar kore beHar Habayit
Ba’ir ha’atikah

U’v’me’arot asher basela
Alfei shmesh ot zor’chot
Ve’shuv nered el Yam HaMelach
B’derech Yericho

Yerushalayim shel zahav
Ve’shel nechoshet ve’shel or
Halo lechol shirayich
Ani kinor

Yerushalayim shel zahav
Ve’shel nechoshet ve’shel or
Halo lechol shirayich
Ani kinor

Ach bevo’i hayom lashir lach
Velach likshor ktarim
Katonti mitza’ir banayich
U’me’acharon hameshorerim

Ki shimch tsorev et hasfatayim
K’neshikat saraf
Im eshkachech Yerushalayim
Asher kula zahav

Yerushalayim shel zahav
Ve’shel nechoshet ve’shel or
Halo lechol shirayich
Ani kinor

Yerushalayim shel zahav
Ve’shel nechoshet ve’shel or
Halo lechol shirayich
Ani kinor

Kinor…

Jerusalem of Gold
Mountain air, clear as wine,
And the scent of pines
Is carried on the evening breeze
With the sound of bells.

And in the slumber of tree and stone,
Captured in its dream,
The city that sits solitary,
With a wall within its heart.

Jerusalem of gold,
And of bronze, and of light—
For all your songs,
I am a violin.

Jerusalem of gold,
And of bronze, and of light—
For all your songs,
I am a violin.

We have returned to the water cisterns,
To the market and the square;
A shofar calls out on the Temple Mount,
In the Old City.

And in the caves within the rock
A thousand suns are shining,
And once again we’ll go down to the Dead Sea
By the road to Jericho.

Jerusalem of gold,
And of bronze, and of light—
For all your songs,
I am a violin.

Jerusalem of gold,
And of bronze, and of light—
For all your songs,
I am a violin.

But when I come today to sing to you,
And to weave you crowns,
I am too small beside the youngest of your sons,
And the last of the poets.

For your name burns the lips
Like a kiss of fire;
If I forget you, Jerusalem—
All of you is gold.

Jerusalem of gold,
And of bronze, and of light—
For all your songs,
I am a violin.

Jerusalem of gold,
And of bronze, and of light—
For all your songs,
I am a violin.

A violin…