friends!, I tell you about my country
land of Anbiya' which time and history tell us
series of stories of the civilization
never dry sea of ink to write it down
until tears and blood of ours spilled because of it
never ended, despite the blood turned into rivers
sometimes come to my country, my friend!
in here, the roof of the sky is always orange
no morning, no lunch, no night, each time is dusk
explosion and flames rising in the red sky
mix dust and smoke soot
decorating the black sky that star-studded
ya, my country is full of stars
not only appears at night, but also in the morning and afternoon
strange is not it?
like fireworks that you turn in the new year
the sky star of my country always falling down
blow up anything in the bottom
houses, schools, mosques and everything
behind the ruins you will find torn bodies
also a pool of blood that flooded the road
in dusty cracked walls, we take our last remaining breathe
and wherever you go, you ll find dew mixed with blood
the air at the corner of the city began to smell like blood
in my country we just know one season, my friend
.......... rain season !
rain of our mother tears
Our kids wet with blood
rain stones, rain bullets. rain missiles ...
ahh ... can you imagine if we were out in the rain
sometimes come into my country
you will see smiles that miss paradise
and the bright eyes of an angel who impatiently awaited...
.....
dedicate to palestine (The Heaven Of Mujahidin)
sorry if my english extremelly terible