They say there is a land,
a land drenched with sun.
Where is that land?
Where is that sun?
They say there is a land,
its pillars are seven,
seven planets,
springing up on every hill.
Where is that land,
the stars of that hill?
Who shall guide our way,
tell me my path?
Already have we passed several
deserts and oceans.
Already have we traversed several,
our strengths are ending.
How is it we have gone astray?
That not yet have we been left alone?
That land of sun,
that one we have not found.
Perhaps she is gone,
It must have been false.
Nothing for us,
Not commanded by the Lord.
A land where shall come to pass,
what every man had hoped for.
Everyone who enters,
had met with Akiva.
Peace to you, Akiva!
Peace to you, Rabbi!
Where are the saints?
Where is the Maccabee?
Answers him Akiva,
answers him the Rabbi:
All of Israel is saintly,
you are the Maccabee!
Where is that land,
the stars of that hill?
Who shall guide our way,
tell me my path?
They say there is a land,
a land drenched with sun
Wherefore is that land?
Where is that sun?
Shaul Tchernichovsky (1875-1943)