Erev Shel Shoshanim
Miriam Makeba
Evening of Roses
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
