I’ve been obsessively listening to Israeli music for a few years now, but the obsession went into overdrive after October 7th, when I needed to feel a connection to Israel that wasn’t all about the news. And as the months have passed, Israeli musicians have been creating more and more music, and finding new meaning in songs that came out before October 7th, as performers have crisscrossed their small country singing at soldiers’ last minute weddings, at hospital bedsides, for evacuees from the south and the north of Israel, and really for whoever has needed comfort. David Broza and Hanan Ben Ari and Shiri Maimon and Ishai Ribo and Sarit Hadad and Omer Adam and Keren Peles and Benaia Barabi and so many others have been singing at small parties and huge vigils and everything in between with a generosity and humility that’s hard to imagine in American superstars. It’s as if the whole music industry in Israel has mobilized to try to help people put their feeling into words, and to fight off the isolation of grief.
I wish the outside world could hear what I’m hearing, but because most of the songs are in Hebrew, they just don’t reach across the divide. And, despite listening to all of this music out of a desire to connect, I’ve actually felt even more isolated, because so few people around me are listening to the same music. Even at my synagogue, where the situation in Israel is top of mind, there are very few people who understand enough Hebrew to listen to this music and enjoy it. So, a few weeks ago, I started trying to translate some of the songs into English, in the hopes that I could close some of that divide.
My goal was to try to make the music accessible to people who don’t know Hebrew and for me to understand the songs better myself. I’m certainly not the first person to feel called to do this; there are multiple sites online where amateur translators can upload their translations of songs from other languages (my favorite is lyricstranslate.com).
Some Israeli pop songs have been professionally translated: there’s a popular video on YouTube of Tamir Greenberg on Kochav HaBah singing an English version of Hanan Ben Ari’s Shvurei Lev/The Broken Hearted. And there’s a lovely half English/half Hebrew version of an Ishai Ribo song (with the Solomon Brothers) that manages to capture something of the original magic.
Hanan Ben Ari – Shvurei Lev/Broken Hearts – the original Hebrew - https://youtu.be/z27MZP_4P_U?si=Pbl5l_VobYY3pDop
Tamir Greenberg Singing Hanan Ben Ari’s Shvurei Lev/Broken Hearts - in English - https://youtu.be/Je6LCZH_wF8?si=6mLVIw-G1vnpnDH3
Ishai Ribo &The Solomon Brothers – My Way Back Home – English and Hebrew - https://youtu.be/WZ6HvzFh7js?si=fVRJ2guZL--PlP9e
But more often than not, the English translations are awkward. The problem is that Hebrew has so many internal rhymes and rhythms, and English is so chaotic and free form that you can’t make the songs sound alike. So, when I approached my own translations I didn’t even bother trying to rhyme, and focused instead on capturing the rhythm and the emotion of the original Hebrew, to the best of my ability.
The first song I chose is called Zeh Beseder/It’s Okay and it was a collaboration between an Israeli singer named Benaia Barabi and survivors of the Nova Music festival. It’s written in simple Hebrew, so I didn’t have to spend too much time on Google Translate, and it’s all about survivor’s guilt and needing to heal at your own pace, so it felt pretty universal.
Benaia Barabi and the Nova Singers – Zeh Beseder - https://youtu.be/WlBWOrLqErI?si=jNANaBBvWK4LWMza
Zeh Beseder/It’s Okay – Written and performed by: Benaia Barabi, et al.
(My Translation)
It’s okay that we’re not okay now
It’s okay to sing when it hurts
It’s okay to cry every morning
And even then to choose to rise
It’s okay to not feel normal
It’s okay not to say a word
It’s okay to dance ‘til morning
In a darkness full of hope
It’s easier to hide my face
To keep the pain in for a thousand years
The voices that keep screaming in my head
To pray for those small moments
When life is normal and we start to change
Only for my broken heart, I’ve tried to keep the faith
I want most of all to be together
To never have to be alone
To choose to sing at the top of my voice
And to reach out for your hand
We want most of all to live without fear
It’s okay to laugh just like that
Most of all I want to hug you close
Is it okay for me to love?
Most of all I want to hug you close
It’s okay for me to love
It’s okay to put on make-up and dress well
It’s okay to start to lose direction
Life keeps moving forward
So who am I not to go along?
It’s okay not to find the answer
It’s okay to need to pray for faith
It’s okay to ask a thousand questions
Of whether to be or not to be
It’s easier to hide my face
To keep the pain in for a thousand years
The voices that keep screaming in my head
I want most of all to be together
To never have to be alone
To choose to sing at the top of my voice
And to reach out for your hand
We want most of all to live without fear
It’s okay to laugh just like that
Most of all I want to hug you close
Is it okay for me to love?
The second song I chose is called Habayta, which literally means, “Towards Home,” about wanting the hostages to come home. The performance of the song, by Raviv Kaner, captures everything, even if you don’t understand any of the words, honestly. And if it were a song in English, about Americans being held hostage, it would probably be on American radio 24/7.
Raviv Kaner – HaBayta - https://youtu.be/Kgv7LNME33s?si=msXRuCH4nT_RSgo5
HaBayta/Return Them Home – Written by: Raviv Kaner and Elnatan Shalom
(My translation)
My father’s up, he’s already awake
My mother’s here, her pain just never ends
Mom and Dad go back to sleep again
Maybe it’s Shabbat and not Sunday
Surrounded by the noise and the chaos
There’s nothing left, there’s no point
Return him home to me right this moment
There’s nothing left, there’s no point
Return her home to me right this moment
Return them home
It’s dark now, turn off all the lights
Maybe for a day or two, at least
Because between despair and hope, I dream
When it’s over, I will breathe again
Surrounded by the noise and chaos
There’s nothing left, there’s no point
Return him home to me right this moment
There’s nothing left, there’s no point
Return her home to me right this moment
Return them home
There’s nothing left, there’s no point
Return them home to me right this moment
There’s nothing left, there’s no point
Return them home to me right this moment
Return them home
Maybe, in the end, I’m just doing these translations as a way to spend more time with music I love, but it would be really nice to share it with other people.
Let me know what you think.
Bonus: Two versions of a Jewish prayer (that didn’t need translation) that has become popular for months now, because it asks for the release of captives:
Acheinu Kol Beit Yisrael – With English Subtitles - https://youtu.be/MYXr6wk19rA?si=tEZqQMmv4_LhyVIu
Lior Narkis and Avi Ohayon’s version (my favorite) – https://youtu.be/vYoQpKNt4II?si=LDwqbZrereSKGP73
If you haven’t had a chance yet, please check out my Young Adult novel, Yeshiva Girl, on Amazon. And if you feel called to write a review of the book, on Amazon, or anywhere else, I’d be honored.
Yeshiva Girl is about a Jewish teenager on Long Island, named Isabel, though her father calls her Jezebel. Her father has been accused of inappropriate sexual behavior with one of his students, which he denies, but Izzy implicitly believes it’s true. As a result of his problems, her father sends her to a co-ed Orthodox yeshiva for tenth grade, out of the blue, and Izzy and her mother can’t figure out how to prevent it. At Yeshiva, though, Izzy finds that religious people are much more complicated than she had expected. Some, like her father, may use religion as a place to hide, but others search for and find comfort, and community, and even enlightenment. The question is, what will Izzy find?