As clear as wine, the wind is flying Among the dreamy pines As evening light is slowly dying And a lonely bell still chimes, So many songs, so many stories The stony hills recall ... Around her heart my city carries A lonely ancient wall.
Yerushalaim all of gold Yerushalaim, bronze and light Within my heart I shall treasure Your song and sight.
Alas, the dry wells and fountains, Forgotten market-day The sound of horn from Temple's mountain No longer calls to pray, The rocky caves at night are haunted By sounds of long ago When we were going to the Jordan By way of Jericho.
Yerushalaim all of gold Yerushalaim, bronze and light Within my heart I shall treasure Your song and sight.
But when I come to count your praises And sing Hallel to you With pretty rhymes I dare not crown you As other poets do, Upon my lips is always burning Your name, so dear, so old: If I forget Yerushalaim Of bronze and light and gold ...
Yerushalaim all of gold Yerushalaim, bronze and light Within my heart I shall treasure Your song and sight.
Back to the wells and to the fountains Within the ancient walls The sound of horn from Temple's mountain Again so loudly calls, From rocky caves, this very morning A thousand suns will glow And we shall go down to the Jordan By way of Jericho.
Yerushalaim all of gold Yerushalaim, bronze and light Within my heart I shall treasure Your song and sight.