Sporting felt hats on a Sabbath morn
Stroll to the Synagogue alongside the Rhine
Near knolls where vineyards are blushing
They debate and shout things you’d scarcely dare translate
Bastard spawned in your mother’s monthlies or The devil take your father
The Rhine raises its dripping face and turns away smiling
Ottomar Scholem and Abraham Lœweren are irascible
Because they can’t smoke on Sabbath
While Christians pass by with lit cigars
And because Ottomar and Abraham both love
Lia with sheepish eyes whose belly’s a bit bigger
Still right on time in the synagogue one after the other
They’ll kiss the Torah as they doff their fine hats
Amongst willow boughs hung for the Feast of Tabernacles
Ottomar will smile at Abraham while singing
They’ll chant out of tune off tempo and their deep voices
Will start Leviathan moaning like autumn from the Rhine’s depths
And in the synagogue filled with hats they’ll wave loulabim
Hanoten ne Kamoth bagoim tholahoth baleoumim
The Bells