The little is calling, it wishes to return.
The little bird is wounded, it cannot fly
but yearn.
It’s captured by the vultures, crying
bitterly”
“Oh, to see my nest again, oh to be
redeemed.”
The little bird of silver, so delicate and
rare,
Still chirps among the vultures,
outshining all that’s there.
How long, how long it suffers, how long
will it be
When will come the eagle and set the
little bird free
The little bird is yisroel, the vultures are
our foes.
The painful wound is golus, which we all
feel and know.
The nest is yerushalaim, where we yearn
to be once more.
And the eagle is moshiach, whom we are
waiting for.