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The Snow on Mount Hermon

What does the snow on Mount Hermon have to say?
It reveals itself to me as a snowbound hut at dusk,
When my dad comes home with the saw at his belt,
And sunlight roaming in the woods on the frosted panes
Shines in his frozen beard, in the hut at dusk.

And it reminds me of the Jews who fell down
Like snowflakes and lay there silent all winter –
And they lie deep, so deep, in my head,
Yearning for a spring to hold their funeral.
But is there a spring green enough?

Bird on Mount Hermon! My dear friend
Whose song I know from Bialik’s verses,
May your thin wings bring my childhood snow
From my home – Vilna – to make it lovelier here.
Without snow it will be cold in sweltering Israel.

Explain? How to Explain?

Explain? How to explain?
Though the sun hasn’t become colder,
It cannot melt a tear,
And only childhood won’t get older.

Like red grapes in a cask,
Its brother – youth is squashed.
Silver already glitters in the hair,
And only childhood won’t get old.

For no money will you buy
Youth’s wild pansies or snow!
Its kings and queens will go by,
And only childhood won’t get old.