Page 14 - TA-Yaffo-Advanced -RB-FP-070622

This is Yaffo

Over the mosques a moon rises,
Over your house rise neon lights,
And again Jasmine bushes give a scent here,
And again we are here, facing the clock.

And again, girl, without “why” and “what for”
My hands grasp your arms.
There is something strange and unknown,
There is something lovely about this city…

The seagulls on the quay have already flown away,
And the sea has gone silent and still.
This is Yaffo, child, this is Yaffo,
That – like wine – penetrates into the blood…

Here a sailor and smoke and the sound of a guitar,
A drawn knife and backgammon games,
Here something is drunk, and not from arak.
And it’s hot – not from the barbequed steaks…

But again, girl, without “why” and “what for”
My hands here grasp your waist.
There is something strange and unknown,
There is something lovely about this city…

The seagulls on the quay…

The fishermen’s boats wink in the horizon,
Tonight playing “seek and hide”
With all of the alleys in the darkness
And with stars of dawn up high

And again, girl, without “why” and “what for”
My lips are held in your lips.
There is something strange and unknown,
There is something lovely about this city…

The seagulls on the quay…

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