How could I bid you farewell, my love? How could my salutation of departure ever be given to you forever? I am a lonely and mournful dove. One who soars across the fathomless Mediterranean Sea. I said farewell to you my darling, but it was only for a while. I hear you calling, and beckoning me to come back home. Therefore, I must embrace this time and take wing. Embarking on a solitary journey of five thousand miles.
I rise up and am uplifted upon the billows of the wind. The wind whispers secrets about life 's incomprehensible mysteries. It skips upon infinite stretches of sea. Endless miles of rocky, white coasts, and diving waves of splendour. My dearest motherland, I will fly beyond the breadth of the sea, and into your arms. Just as dandelion seeds dance upon the breeze. In a moment, my eyes will meet your soil. Time has been spent like a vapour, and I now return to your borders.
O heart of God[WU1] , swallow me up! Draw my soul near to your bosom. You can never be likened unto the barrenness of the desert. If you were, you would be its desert rose. The fertile fields of your Beqaa valley are lush and emerald green. The rows of your crops sow seeds of resistance. The doe and the fawn skip elegantly across your swaying grasslands. The grapes of your vineyards are like amethyst. In the spring, I walk barefoot across the awakening of
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No, not even at the end of time. Your resistance has freed you from the chains of invading conquerors. The sacrifice and zeal of your men have brought back your dignity. Verses of emotion cry out from my belly. In lamentation, I wail saying, "Your sacred soil will not be deserted, nor will your borders be perilous!" Open your eyes, my love! The currents of your streams are flowing freely. The stones of your hilltops sing aloud. So rise up and be jubilant! Victory is in your hand. The men of God have accomplished their duty. The supplications of our people have been