Song of the Herdsmen

Yaakov Orland

1955

Oh prairie, endless prairie,
The eyes of the herdsmen look out:
Not a bush, not a thistle, not a tree,
A new wind comes to the desert.
Over forlorn expanses the song of the herdsmen
Will sound and reverberate,
And the sun will be rising and setting
And the song will keep on surging.
Oh prairie, prairie, the color of the alder tree,
Thousands…
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