From the nursery of loss

From the nursery of loss, orchards were planted for people

And from the confusion of souls, it was stolen from us from the spaciousness of illusions

A tree of dreams that stirred up years of alienation

And pains that pursue us every month and force us to commit

And a star that appeared, struggling to appear from the middle of the clouds

To find a home for its light in peace

My grandfather was a sad orphan who refused to surrender

And let illusions lead him to nightmares of sleep

Where he found his wounds about to heal

The rose of the garden that hovered calling us

And gave us the scent of dreams around us

So let us dream freely of a homeland whose pens were scattered

And feelings of a heart of reproach were trampled upon it

So he said: Is there a way for fear to become a commitment?

Is there a way for my grandfather to be safe from an enemy who deprived him of peace?

Oh land of resistance, the sun of freedom has set on it, so harmony has been lost

Be patient, for peace will come, even on the wing of a white dove

The waves will make us happy, as will the doves with their sorrows

Oh incubator of loss, do not give us a place in our land

For the home of the soul is a bird that sings melodies, so it has become blameworthy.