A-ba-ni-bi

A-ba-ni-bi 'o-bo-e-bev
A-ba-ni-bi 'o-bo-e-bev 'o-bo-ta-bakh
A-ba-ni-bi 'o-bo-e-bev
A-ba-ni-bi 'o-bo-e-bev 'o-bo-ta-bakh
A-ba-ni-bi 'o-bo-e-bev
'O-bo-e-bev 'o-bo-ta-bakh
When we were children, we loved in secret
Who were we precious to - only to uncles and aunts
And the poor girls endured, the sweet ones - they only received blows
And what we truly felt, we only whispered in the Bet language

A-ba-ni-bi 'o-bo-e-bev
A-ba-ni-bi 'o-bo-e-bev 'o-bo-ta-bakh
A-ba-ni-bi 'o-bo-e-bev
A-ba-ni-bi 'o-bo-e-bev 'o-bo-ta-bakh

Love is a beautiful word, a beautiful prayer, a language
Love is good to me
It always overcomes and with the language of love we speak

A-ba-ni-bi 'o-bo-e-bev
A-ba-ni-bi 'o-bo-e-bev 'o-bo-ta-bakh
A-ba-ni-bi 'o-bo-e-bev
A-ba-ni-bi 'o-bo-e-bev 'o-bo-ta-bakh

I dream and wake up three words
And what is the world - three words
And this is what I feel now
Just like then, in the Bet language

A-ba-ni-bi 'o-bo-e-bev
A-ba-ni-bi 'o-bo-e-bev 'o-bo-ta-bakh
A-ba-ni-bi 'o-bo-e-bev
A-ba-ni-bi 'o-bo-e-bev 'o-bo-ta-bakh

A-ba-ni-bi 'o-bo-e-bev
A-ba-ni-bi 'o-bo-e-bev 'o-bo-ta-bakh
A-ba-ni-bi 'o-bo-e-bev
A-ba-ni-bi 'o-bo-e-bev 'o-bo-ta-bakh

A-ba-ni-bi 'o-bo-e-bev
A-ba-ni-bi 'o-bo-e-bev 'o-bo-ta-bakh