Ode to Zion*
A RT thou not, Zion, fain To send forth greetings from thy sacred rock Unto thy captive train, Who greet thee as the remnants of thy flock? Take thou on every side— East, west, and south, and north—their greetings multiplied. Sadly he greets thee still, The prisoner of hope, who, day and night, Shed tears, like dew on Hermon's hill— Would that they fell upon thy mountain's height.
Harsh is my voice when I bewail thy woes,But when, in fancy's dream,I see thy freedom, forth its cadence flowsSweet as the harps that hung by Babel's stream.My heart is sore distressedFor Bethel ever blessed,For Peniel, and each ancient, sacred place.The holy presence thereTo thee is present whereThy Maker opes thy gates, the gates of Heaven to face.
The glory of the Lord will ever be Thy sole and perfect light ; No need hast thou, then, to illumine thee , Of sun by day, and moon and stars by night. I would that, where God's spirit was of yore Poured out unto thy holy ones, I might There, too, my soul outpour. The house of kings and throne of God wert thou, How comes it then that now Slaves fill the throne where sat thy kings before?
Oh, who will lead me on To seek the spots where, in far-distant years, The angels in their glory dawned upon Thy messengers and seers?
* Translated from the Hebrew of Jehuda Halevi.