Shema-Yisroel-Adonai-Elohenu Adonai-Echod

O GOD of Israel, Lord on high,

Hear, O hear, thy children cry.

Like the wave in stormy gale,

It rises with its mournful wail,

O’er the land in accents drear,

It sounds, and murmurs far and near.

The Russian with his tyrant hand,

Augments it in his cruel land.

His lash and scourge thy chosen race,

Doth scourge and lash with torments base.

He hears their hunger’s fierce desire,

With mocking curses and with ire.

Unclothed and starving they may pine,

His heart is deaf to race of thine.

Therefore we pray thee, Israel’s God,

Free thine own, and with thy rod,

Chastise the tyrant. Let him see,

That still thy race are one with thee;

That still thou art our Adonoy,

And that we worship thee with joy.