By Rahel (nee Rahel Bluwstein)
Oh, if I had a son, a little son,
With black curled hair and clever eyes,
A little son to walk with in the garden
Under morning skies
A son,
A little son!
I'd call him Uri, little laughing Uri,
A tender name, as light, as full of joy
As sunlight on the dew, as tripping on the tongue
As the laughter of the boy -
"Uri!"
I'd call him.
And still I wait, as mother Rahel waited,
Or Hannah at Shiloh, she the barren one,
Until the day comes when my lips whisper,
"Uri, my son!"
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