I heard it from Rav Wachsman
Who told it from his heart
(I can’t repeat all that he said
I don’t know where to start)
But it’s soon Lag Ba’omer
It’s soon day thirty-three
I’ll tell the story he told of
Rav Shimon Ibn Lavi
Born in times of tzarah
When Yidden fled from Spain
He escaped to Morroco
Where he thought he’d remain
But in his heart a yearning
I am not sure just why
A kesher that he felt so strong
To Rav Shimon Bar Yochai
And all the years he lived in Fez
In the sands of Morocco
He pledged that to Rav Shimon’s grave
One day he would go
The feeling it grew stronger
Till one day it had grown
So strong that he decided
He’d walk there to Meron
And so by foot he travelled
Across the burning sand
Despite the dangers and the risks
To the Promised Land
Indeed nothing would stop him
His goal before he’d die
To reach the holy kever of
Rav Shimon bar Yochai
But in his desperate travels
He stopped in Tripoli
And saw something
A tzaddik hopes
He would not ever see
There were so many kinderlach
And no rebbi to teach
So much Torah they could learn
Neshamos he could reach
Despite the lifelong dream he had
His everlasting yearning
Rav Shimon ibn Lavi knew
It’s less than children learning
And so in Tripoli he stayed
To teach his whole life long
Instead of going to Meron
He just composed a song
I’m sure when he composed it
His eyes they were not dry
The holy song forever known
The niggun Bar Yochai
Rav Shimon Ibn Lavi
Remains in Tripoli
The song he made
For Rav Shimon
It lives eternally
And thousands upon thousands come
On Lag Ba’omer night
And sing the words that he composed
With their entire might
Indeed his body did not come
But His will had reached his goal
For every year Ibn Lavi
Is there with all his soul
The zechus of teaching Torah
To kids in Tripoli
Has linked the souls of Rav Shimon
And Rav Ibn Lavi
