Lyrics adapted by Frank DiGiacomo from the play by S. Ansky. Based on THE DYBBUK, translation © 1974 by S. Morris Engel, published by Nash Publishing Corporation, New York.

Sung after he has briefly seen Laia during her visit to the synagogue. Khannon has been performing ritual ablutions and fasting, to the point that he is physically and emotionally exhausted and always near hysteria. In this aria he rhapsodizes over his love for Laia, reciting Solomon’s “Song of Songs”.

(Sender’s disclosure at the end of Act I of Laia’s betrothal to another causes a total breakdown in Khannon; and while the men join in a dance celebrating the betrothal, Khannon frantically peruses his magical texts for the secrets which will grant him his wishes. At the moment when, in his hysteria, Khannon finds what he seeks, he falls dead.)

There are two performances available of Khannon's Love Song. The first performance is by Terry Bowers, accompanied by Frank DiGiacomo, at the recital An Evening of New Music by Frank DiGiacomo, on May 18, 1977 at the Carrier Theater of the Mulroy Civic Center in Syracuse, New York. The second is sung by Bruce Reed, on October 5, 1976, with the Composer at the piano, during A Recital of New Music by Frank DiGiacomo, given at the old Corinthian Club in Syracuse, New York.

LYRICS  
KHANNON:
    Behold, thou art fair, oh my love;
    behold, thou art fair, my love.
    Thine eyes are doves behind thy veil,
    thy hair like to a flock of goats
    come down from the mountain.
    Thy lips are like to a scarlet strand;
    thy mouth is beautiful,
    thy cheek is like a half pomegranate,
    hid behind thy veil.
    Thy breasts are like twin fawns,
    born of a gazelle,
    that browse among the lilies.

    Thou hast ravished my heart,
    my sister, my bride,
    thou hast ravished my heart
    with one glance of thine eyes!
    How beautiful is thy love,
    my sister, my bride,
    how much more beautiful is thy love than wine,
    the fragrance of thy love than all spices.
    Thou art a garden enclosed,
    my sister, my bride, my love!
    A fountain sealed, thou art a garden fountain —­
    a fountain sealed, a well of water
    flowing down from the mountain.

    Behold, thou art fair, my love —­
    behold, thou art fair!
    Until the day breathes cool,
    and shadows lengthen,
    I will go unto the mountain of myrrh,
    unto the hill of frankincense...
    behold, thou art fair!
    ...thou art fair,
    there is no blemish in thee.
    Behold, thou art fair, my love.
    Thou hast ravished my heart,
    my sister, my bride!

(The lantern lighting the room suddenly goes out.)