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.
