Prancing in the atmosphere,
Spreading death there, and here,
Thinking of herself a god can fit,
but nobody but God will stop it.

I lie enjoying her fragrant music,
Torturing my weakly thoughts and phobic;
Black revelry stimulates my blood to boil;
Saturated with the sacred Arab oil.

Under that high mountain of sadness,
The sea is roaring; The sea of madness.

A heart that carved death in stone,
And a flowery thistle singing,
A tone.

My people try hard to be,
Nothing except wailing,
In front of me,
In front of all,
In front of the Wailing Wall !! .. تابع / more »

Future looks at you from windows
What makes future smile but eyes,
Like the eagle while the prey it follows,
And a cheerful mouth who smiles;

Storms will come tomorrow
And there will be tears;
Sick minds reign and fears,
The sour taste of sorrow .. تابع / more »