Up to the Ancient Skies,
caught in the storms of the Sea of Galilee,
we float, we fear, we grow, we grieve,
but we believe.
Upon every scary night, there is a starry sky.
We flow down with the river.
We flow with the purifying hope of the Jordan River;
we cry, we sing, like a shelter home of Love and Liberty.
We go down with the river
with old pain, new wounds and countless scars.
We shall rest so we can heal.
Anytime soon, our pain shall cease.
Until the river meets the sea,
we shall cast away our pain and wash away our tears,
for there is nothing left to fear.
Out of the depths of misery,
into a place of love, safety, beauty and mystery,
our pain shall drown;
down to the depths of the Dead Sea.
And so shall it remain through all the ages
of all the skies and olive trees.
Palestine shall be free.
