I came across this song when it was released earlier this year. It felt somewhat relevant, but I knew that sooner or later it would be even more relevant, it was just a matter of time. The poet Yehuda Amichai wrote the words in 1983, after the Lebanon War, and Sapir Volach's haunting melody captures the unsettling feeling of the song. I had trouble falling asleep in the past few days, not just out of fear of rockets in the middle of the night, but mainly because of the devastating lynchings and riots that have been taking place in mixed cities all over the country, fuelled by extremists from both sides. I've had plenty of encounters with Israeli Arabs over the years, sometimes there was an underlying tension but mostly there wasn't. I thought of when my sister and I went to an excellent Italian restaurant in the Jaffa Port back in March on the first day when restaurants were finally allowed to reopen for in-house dining after 6 long months. The staff was just as excited as we were and I remember how our waiter went out of his way to bring Tahini from the restaurant next door to them when we asked for some with our salad. I don't know when I'll get to go there again, maybe the unrest will die down just like these flare-ups do, but maybe it won't and things won't go back to how they were before.
Give the child a lullaby, sing to him so he'll sleep:
Father has gone to work, father has gone to war
But sleep.
The wolf is howling, the enemy is at the gate, but sleep,
The house is collapsing, the world is going up in flames.
But sleep, but sleep.
Don't tell him about heavenly angels,
Don't tell him about a butterfly
And not about golden birds.
Sing the terrible things in a sweet voice,
Also a plague and a sword and hunger
They are a relaxing rhythm.
Take the lullaby from the child,
He'll still fall asleep, he'll still grow up,
Take the child from the lullaby
And the song will continue on its own in the world
And finally will catch up with him
And put him to sleep for good.
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