Erev Shel Shoshanim

Evening of roses
Let's go out to the grove
Myrrh, spices, and incense
Are a carpet at your feet

Night descends slowly
And a breeze of roses stirs
Come, let's go out to the grove
My love

Dawn is already on the mountain
And the doves' cooing is heard
Open to the morning breeze, rose
I will pick it for myself

Night descends slowly
And a breeze of roses stirs
Come, let's go out to the grove
My love