The mountaintop resounds with mourning,
The flocks climb it, stars disappear in their path,
The waters weep, clearly springing from the wells;
Under an acacia tree, my dear, you wait for me.
The mountaintop resounds with mourning,
The flocks climb it, stars disappear in their path,
The waters weep, clearly springing from the wells;
Under an acacia tree, my dear, you wait for me.