Go, thoughts, on golden wings;
Go, settle upon the slopes and hills
Where warm and soft and fragrant are
The breezes of our sweet native land!
Greet the banks of the Jordan
The towers of Zion ...
Oh my country so beautiful and lost!
Or so dear yet unhappy!
Or harp of the prophetic seers
Why do you hang silent from the willows?
Rekindle the memories within our hearts
Tell us about the time that have gone by
Or similar to the fate of Solomon
Give a sound of lament;
Or let the Lord inspire a concert
That may give to endure our suffering