From Dan until Be'er Sheva,

from Gilad to the sea,

not a foot of our land was

not atoned for with blood.

 

Hebrew blood was totally absorbed

by every ploughed field, and mountain and valley;

Yet from generation to generation

There was no purer blood than - that spilled

of the ploughmen of Tel Hai

of the ploughmen of Tel Hai.

 

Between Ayelet and Metula,

concealed in a desolate grave,

the border guardian of our land was silenced.

The hero was severed.

 

We are captives but our hearts

lean towards Tel Hai in the north;

We, we shall own,

the crown of the Hermon, the crown of the Hermon.