Ofra Haza Yad Anuga
A DELICATE HAND
Oh ... she had a delicate hand
No man dared touch her;
Her two lips were crimson, charming;
Only for kisses were they made.
Oh, Mother ... only for kisses were they made.
Oh ... a black eye, she had
Light and shade clashed within it;
On her forehead, there still trembled
The freshness of youth, full of beauty.
Oh, Mother, the freshness of youth, full of beauty.
Oh ... and evening came, and night,
Silently, shadow kissed shadow;
Then, she gave her heart to him -
All her heart, she gave to him.
Oh, Mother ... all her heart, she gave to him.
Oh ... she had a delicate hand ...
