Young people dancing, the drumbeat is joy,
The sounds are cheerful, friends, family,
High school students, the graduation party,
Still this summer they will begin training.

Long curls and white shirts,
Changed into uniforms, army boots,
Joyous cheers are already orders of charge,
And the rhythm is heavy of drums of war.

Israel, all the land, people of the world,
Walk about with a silent prayer in their hearts,
Wars up ahead will continue to slay,
For forever the sword devour we shall.

This one mother whose sorrow no one may know,
Her smile conquers quickly, so light is her movement,
Continuing the path of the son, to the light,
For herself, for the brothers who were left behind.

Noa move she will, light feet,
To lighten the weight that continues to be,
Dance his being, dance to his memory,
Love and dance will forever be his legacy.

Like a giant flock of cranes,
That gathered for its night sleep,
They stand there, white and straight,
In long, organized lines,
To the horizon,
Without sound or wing flap, silent.

From here they will no longer migrate far,
To blue beaches in distant lands,
Will not court their beloved,
Build a home, nest as a couple,
Will not incubate together and teach chicks to fly,
Will not continue touring and grow old down the years,
As is the way for the cranes.

In a vast field they now rest,
Shoulder to shoulder, brothers in blood.
Some have landed here long ago,
And others joined only recently,
Straight from the last battle,
Which as always is not that.

Visitors arrive at the lake,
Family fowls, friend birds,
Sit by their side, tell and remember,
Events, experiences, when they were alive.
Who was the man, who was the woman,
How they abruptly left, so hard is the feeling.

Holy day is today,
From all other days.
Battles have not ceased yet,
Between borders and peoples.
Lu Yehi, who shall give, silver platter, blood,
It is not finished,
Such are our lives.