Come and listen to a story about a man named Zebedee
A poor goat farmer, who lived near the Sea of Galilee,
Then one day he was shootin’ at some food,
And up through the ground came a bubblin’ crude.
Oil that is, black gold, Israeli tea.
Well the first thing you know Zeb's a millionaire,
Kinfolk said 'Zeb move away from there'
Said 'Tel Aviv is the place you ought to be'
So they loaded up the truck and moved Tel Aviv.
Hills, that is. Swimmin’ pools, movie stars.
Well now its time to say good by to Zeb and all his kin.
And they would like to thank you folks fer kindly droppin in.
You're all invited back again to this locality
To have a heapin’ helpin’ of Yiddish hospitality
Hasidic that is. Set a spell, Put your kaftan on.
Y'all come back now, y'hear?
(3-30-09)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem