Sarah was Abraham's niece,
And Abraham was Sarah's uncle;
Like a thousand pieces of silver to buy your love;
But love is all that makes the world go round.
Wherethere are pick pockets,
You don't find me there;
Because my lips are with the law!
You've stolen my wife and you say it is okay,
But wait until the party is over;
There you will learn more from life itself.
Of a tender and a fat calf,
This world is made of Ishmayl and Isaac;
Like butter and milk to my taste but,
A brick is for stone and the bitmen is for mortar.
Life is like a ram caught in a thicket by its horns,
And war is like a golden ring weighing a beka;
So you will walk in the nakedness of the shame of your theft!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem