Giuseppe Verdi — The Chorus of the Hebrew Slaves

Go, thoughts, on golden wings; Go, settle upon the slopes and hills Where warm and soft and fragrant are The breezes of our sweet native land! Greet the banks of the Jordan The towers of Zion ... Oh my country so beautiful and lost! Or so dear yet unhappy! Or harp of the prophetic seers Why do you hang silent from the willows? Rekindle the memories within our hearts Tell us about the time that have gone by Or similar to the fate of Solomon Give a sound of lament; Or let the Lord inspire a concert That may give to endure our suffering