Sof Kayitz
Kvar ha-kayitz khalaf
Kvar tasim me’alav
Barburei ha-anan be-sharsheret
Kvar kamash ha-dardér
Ve-amud ha-matar
Me-ever la-ofek nitsav

Ha-olam mitlablev
Akh maskit od ha-lev
Le-tuga she-ba-ayin nikshéret
Kshe-ha-kayitz khalaf
U-mi-karka nishlaf
Lahavo ha-tsakhór shel khatsav

Be-ganot
Kvar mone adama et vladéha
Be-granot
Ha-khatsir al atsmo ne’eram
Be-sderot
Mashlikha tsaf-tsafa et bigdéha
Be-gderot
Ma’alot ha-kvasim et tsamran

Be-gderot
Ma’alot ha-kvasim et tsamran

Be-kramim
Mekaplot ha-gfanim et aléhen
Be-tlamim
Meshkhima adama kav la-kav
Be-gvahim
Ha-leilot kvar otim me’iléhem
Be-nikha’im
Khalilo shel ha-ru’akh nitkaf

Be-nikha’im
Khalilo shel ha-ru’akh nitkaf

Ki ha-kayitz khalaf
Ki rukhaf me’alav
Mifraso ha-samui shel ha-khoref
Mitkatsrim ha-yamim
U-ve-nefesh homim
Kisufim ve-tugot ke-metar

Ve-tsofe lo ikar
Eikh ba-boker ha-kar
Ha-kayitz mefane et ha-oref
Ve-kheveret adama
She-damo be-dama
Mekhaka le-zera’im u-matar

Be-ganot
Kvar mone adama et vladéha
Be-granot
Ha-khatsir al atsmo ne’eram
Be-sderot
Mashlikha tsaf-tsafa et bigdéha
Be-gderot
Ma’alot ha-kvasim et tsamran

Be-gderot
Ma’alot ha-kvasim et tsamran

Be-kramim
Mekaplot ha-gfanim et aléhen
Be-tlamim
Meshkhima adama kav la-kav
Be-gvahim
Ha-leilot kvar otim me’iléhem
Be-nikha’im
Khalilo shel ha-ru’akh nitkaf

Be-nikha’im
Khalilo shel ha-ru’akh nitkaf

End of Summer
The summer has already passed
Already we fly above it
Cloud swans in a chain
Already the thistle has withered
And the pillar of rain
Stands beyond the horizon

The world is budding again
Yet the heart still listens
To the sorrow bound within the eye
When the summer has passed
And from the ground is drawn
The white blade of the squill

In the gardens
The earth already counts her offspring
In the granaries
The hay is piled upon itself
Along the boulevards
The poplar sheds her garments
Along the fences
The sheep lift up their wool

Along the fences
The sheep lift up their wool

In the vineyards
The vines fold in their leaves
In the furrows
The earth darkens line by line
In the heights
The nights already don their coats
In the valleys
The wind’s flute is seized

In the valleys
The wind’s flute is seized

For the summer has passed
For hovering above it
Is winter’s hidden sail
The days grow shorter
And within the soul resound
Longings and sorrows like strings

And a farmer watches
How in the cold morning
Summer turns its back
And a clod of earth
Whose blood is in her soil
Waits for seeds and rain

In the gardens
The earth already counts her offspring
In the granaries
The hay is piled upon itself
Along the boulevards
The poplar sheds her garments
Along the fences
The sheep lift up their wool

Along the fences
The sheep lift up their wool

In the vineyards
The vines fold in their leaves
In the furrows
The earth darkens line by line
In the heights
The nights already don their coats
In the valleys
The wind’s flute is seized

In the valleys
The wind’s flute is seized