Shining high the trees of spring - 
Leaf and branch of wood renewed. 
The dove calls out - morning sings - 
The lemon hangs full 
'Gainst a blaze of blue. 
Winds wash sunlight 
Over streets at noon 
And stir the figlets 
On the ripening fig. 
Whence the reigning peace? 
Whence the light cast on stone - 
Beautiful, unknown? 
O Jerusalem - 
Like a calm sailing in the dark, 
Your small bark steadily gaining 
Through rough seas, 
Nears the distant shore. 
Even now - the promised golden port 
You can sight. 
Ask - ask what I'd give 
For the light. 
 
 

 
 
