Song of Zion

It is neither dew nor rain,

it is my tears that bedew

your mountains, o Zion.

It is neither fire nor sun,

but our blood that reddens

your skies, o Zion.

And a mist rises,

formed of the tears of our eyes,

clear to heaven, and becomes rain,

and these sweet waters calm our spirit,

the spirit of those who mourn for Jerusalem.

These tears of our eyes

are a consolation,

a healing for the broken heart.

It is they that strengthen battered hearts

and calm the agitated soul.