From the hills of Palestine, a scent so deep and true
Za'atar calls, a flavor waiting just for you
Wild thyme and sumac, sesame's gentle grace
Mixed with salt, a taste of time, in this sacred place

Oh, Za'atar, green and fragrant, a culinary art
From the ancient olive trees, straight to every heart
Sprinkled on the labneh, or baked in golden bread
A symbol of resilience, by generations fed

On fresh baked khobz, it's a simple, humble feast
With olive oil, a morning joy, from west to the Middle East
A memory of grandmas, kneading dough with knowing hand
The essence of the culture, across the promised land

Oh, Za'atar, green and fragrant, a culinary art
From the ancient olive trees, straight to every heart
Sprinkled on the labneh, or baked in golden bread
A symbol of resilience, by generations fed

More than just a spice, it's a story told with pride
Of rocky fields and sunshine, where traditions still abide
In every pinch, a whisper, of strength and steadfast soul
Za'atar from Palestine, making spirits whole

Oh, Za'atar, green and fragrant, a culinary art
From the ancient olive trees, straight to every heart
Sprinkled on the labneh, or baked in golden bread
A symbol of resilience, by generations fed

So let the aroma fill the air, let the flavors dance and play
Palestine's Za'atar, brightening every day.