As clear as wine, the wind is flying
Among the dreamy pines
As evening light is slowly dying
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.
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 and 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.
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