The sun's about to set, marking the transition between Memorial Day and Independence Day. She's 59 years old today, still a baby as countries go, and it's pretty amazing that every year on this day I actually feel like she's a she, and it's her birthday, and I will wear blue and white and eat salad and corn (which my mom insists is "classic Israeli food") to celebrate. She's almost sixty, and it's scary to think of how much has been built in sixty years, how very capable such a small portion of land is of change – because that gets you wondering about what the country will look like in another sixty years, and can I hope the change will be for the better, but… you never know. I am crossing my fingers for existence, period.


The very best Israeli songs, in my opinion, the ones with the most beautiful lyrics and the ipurest melodies the pierce your heart, are memorial day songs, which are actually their own genre. All day long they play them on the radio and sing them at memorial services and it's calm and sad and lovely.

One day a few years ago I remember thinking to myself, poor non-Israelis, who don't know Hebrew and are thus deprived from all these amazing songs. I wish they could hear as wonderful a song as, for example, Rav Hovel which brings me to tears whenever I hear it performed well.

And then, out of curiosity, I looked up who'd written the words to Rav Hovel because it turned out that not only was it a translation of an American poem, but it was a poem I actually knew (by virtue of having watched Dead Poets Society, by the way) - Walt Whitman's O Captain, My Captain. The translation is beautiful, and I've uploaded the song for anyone who's interested to hearing the melody. I'm less fond of this version, but it's the best I could find. (If you want to keep track of the lyrics while reading, know that whenever the she sings "Avoi, libi, libi, libi" she's at "O heart! heart! heart!". Except she's saying my heart. And here is the song.

Another song I love that was only written this year is A Million Stars, which was recorded by the younger sister of Tom Farkash, a 23-year-old Apache pilot who was killed in the war this summer. The story behind it adds significance, but the song is good in itself. Lyrics and translation here.

Speaking of which, three of my high school's graduates were killed in the war this summer. One was a class above me, two a class under me. I didn’t know any of them, but it made the day... it meant more than it usually does. Nearly the entire town showed up for the ceremonies, both last night and the one at the high school today. One of the fathers said kaddish. The younger sister of one of them read a text she'd written, voice trembling, and I saw some kids hugging in the audience, and this memorial day, it was… different. As I imagine it was almost everywhere in the country.

I had more to say, but if I don't go now I'll miss the show, and damn if I miss my fireworks.

ETA: And the songs were apparently .wma, so here are .mp3 versions:
Rav Hovel
A Million Stars

Also, have seen fireworks! Eyes still dazzling.