The goat has been to market,
That will be Yidele's calling, too,
Trading in raisins and almonds.
There will be a time when railroads
WIll cover half the earth
And Yidele too will earn great wealth,
But even when you are rich, Yidele,
Remember your mother's lullaby
And the raisins and almonds.
--From an old Yiddish lullaby, "Rozhenkes mit Mandlen
Children of the martyr-race,
Whether free or fettered,
Wake the echoes of the songs,
Where ye may be scattered.
Yours the message cheering,
That the time is nearing,
Which will see all men free,
Tyrants disappearing.
--from a Chanukah hymn (Maoz Tzur, or "Rock of Ages" wink
Come, give me your hand and we will go
Don't ask me where
Don't ask me about happiness
Maybe it will come too
When it will come
It will fall upon us like rain.
Come, let us embrace and go
Don't ask me when
Don't ask me about home
Don't ask me for time
Time does not wait, nor stop or remain.
--Translation of "Bo'i" by Israeli artist Idan Raichel
Let the sun rise, the morning shine,
The finest of prayers can bring us back
no more.
And he whose flame has been
extinguished,
Who's buried in the ground,
No bitter wails will wake him
restore.
No one can bring us back from the dark
of the grave.
Here, neither the joys of victory
Nor paeans from the brave can help.
Just sing therefore a song to peace
Don't whisper prayers.
Far better, sing a song to peace,
And sing it way out loud.
Let the sun in through the flowers.
Don't look back, let the fallen rest.
Raise your eyes in hope, not through the
barrel of a gun.
Sing a song to love and not to victories.
Don't say "a day will come"--go bring
that day yourself,
For it is not a dream.
In all the squares, ring out a song for
peace.
--Translation of "Shir La Shalom" by Yakov Rotblit
