In the valley’s skies an eagle flies,
Scanning its land,
Here it grew, spread its wings,
Here it built its house,

Another scan, a tiny tail wave,
It turns and flies away,
The fruit of its hands, the labor of its life,
Lays down its story.

A young man bearing arms,
Defender of his land,
A young man takes a wife,
Starts his family here.

The kibbutz is rushing forward, developing,
A man is carrying its tools,
Kitchen, stainless steel, kibbutz secretary,
A neighborhood at its outskirts.

A man walks, the valley ground,
Knows his feet,
A thousand paths he marked in it,
From winter to autumn.

A grown man, his path’s work
Never rested for a moment,
If his feet grew heavy suddenly,
His hands were not weakened.

A gray man, tended to rest,
His life course is completed,
The valley ground he loved so dearly,
Hugging for eternity.