On a hill, yonder in the Galilee

Sits a guard, playing a flute.

 

He plays the song of a shepherd

to a sheep, a kid, and a lost colt.

 

to a mischievous child chasing a butterfly.

To a nomad arriving from a city and a town.

 

He plays the flute and calls: Hello!

Come here, come to me!

 

The flute can play melodies

There are legends here in the Galilee.

 

There used to be an ancient hero,

who split rocks open and moved them.

 

In the path of destruction into caves

his voice thundered, he turned on lights.

 

With a song of life, he set out to the battle

Facing a great a great big mob.

 

'It's good to die on guard of our land!'

so, he said.

 

There used to be a hero - a riddle,

who had but one arm.

 

A Different Version:

A different wording of the ninth verse:

 

"It's good to die" - so he said -

"for our land, while on guard"!