Shedemati

Words: Yitzhak Shenhar
Melody: Yedidya Admon

My field,
At dawn I sowed it in tears.
The prayer of farmer is heard.
My field is quenched with dew,
Drunk with sunlight.
Before the reaper the grain bows low.
With great swipes the burnished sickle
Is swung skyward.

Shedemati

Shedemati

Words: Yitzhak Shenhar
Melody: Yedidya Admon

My field,
At dawn I sowed it in tears.
The prayer of farmer is heard.
My field is quenched with dew,
Drunk with sunlight.
Before the reaper the grain bows low.
With great swipes the burnished sickle
Is swung skyward.

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