It is sad to die in the middle of Tammuz

The flags of summer are flying high

At the top of the flagpole a busy queue and never stopping

Because on your end and on your harvest the hurrah fell

 

It is sad to die in the middle of Tammuz

Especially when the peaches are abundant

And all the fruit actually laughs in the basket

And on your end and on your harvest the hurrah fell

 

It is sad to die in the middle of Tammuz

But I shall die in the middle of Tammuz

To the fruit orchards that have become orphaned

Cheer after cheer will fall

And on your end and on your harvest and on everything