Even from Babel we've been separated,
into Thou house, up to the hill, we will embark.
O Zerubbabel, how we don’t want to feel
a dry seasons, a hot weather; times when
our barley field, olive trees, and vineyard
give me an empty wagon, none in your hand.
And you, Joshua, it’s happened because we
want to see happy faces, a fertile land
with herds of cattle, a deer, and our children
are running around, climb up your highland,
into Thou house. So, with all Babel’s
ruins and debris, we’ll arise!