Ilan, Ilan,
Oh beautiful tree
With what shall I bless you
For all eternity?
I would wish a sweet taste
in all fruit that you bear,
But your fruits are already swee
Way beyond compare.
I could wish you a pleasant,
And comforting shade,
But you’ve already come to many
A weary traveler’s aid.
Or a stream of cooling water
A burning thirst to slake
But here it’s ready at your roots
For passersby to partake.
And, so I will bless you, tree
For the good you always do,
That all the saplings that you bear
Should grow to be like you.
