Life is limited by two limits
And limits beside limits

Where are you traveling, you fool?
The door of travel is closed

If it weren't for the "A" and the "B"
My situation wouldn't be this bad

I will break the edges
And arrive at the house

The way of love is paved
With fire, roses and stones

Oh! How beautiful the beauty
His hand on his cheek

If it weren't for the "A" and the "B"
I would stay next to him

You beauty you are infatuated
Take it easy

I discovered the pain is easier
I take it for your sake

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His life is short
A small world made of paper
A barefooted old man
His embrace is not warm
And his heart is not big
He staggers
He lives on his sin
With one breath, he will fly away

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Like that, God is planting trees in heaven
He has a reason
Maybe He is preparing wood to burn in hell
Maybe He is bored

Like that, God is creating life through people
Some of them are clever
And some of them have thick lips from talking
And you see pictures in them

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Uncle Amin, you taste bitterness and you distribute it among the customers and debts to the legs

You have no work from one store to another, ok, you don't have a cigarette? And all of it is borrowed

Please spend less money, as if you have an allowance, I can't see, where am I?

Why and of what are you scared? And why did they give you fake dreams and make them seem real?

You rent a house and the neighbor is more important than the house
And you don't know whether to pay your debts to the neighbor or pay your rent

And you are still listening to the news?

Think and scratch your head, don't be confused and guess

Who is Uncle Shantah, Uncle Shantah stopped bucking, he cut his antlers and let his tongue hang

In his eyes you see his sadness but his teeth are still sharp and they cut, he is a result of all the years

Shantah is the hero of his time, he prepared himself and counted his men and went alone to war

And his uncles and their sons are sucking his blood, ok, who do you think he is?

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Is this night? Or what?
Is this the sea?
With what will you hang the names and the pictures?
With what will you walk?
There's no time to forget
How many tents and how many lives
With what will you fight?
There's no time to die
And you are promising me joy and songs and the moon?

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For the cooing of the pigeons I left the windows open
I left my face on the edge of the well

On its line above the closet's rope, speaking, I left words
On its night waiting wraps itself in wool, I left darkness

On the fig trees pants are spread, I left the clouds
Renewing itself by itself, I left sleeping

Alone there on the ground, I left peace

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N/A

Your hair is gold sown with the loom of the sun and the wind
My heart is whinnying like a horse's cry
Your hair is gold and it needs a golden clasp
But the gold is buried in the country
And if there is a country, the gold will be easy
I have flowers and words of love like wine that's been kept in clay pots for you
I have honeycomb and honey from the roses and from the bees of poetry for you
I will unfasten your hair and let it flow
Like wheat in the sun's mortar
A smile from your lovely face is a star in the prisoner's sky

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When the night becomes a tiger
A striped tiger, smelling your hands
With a little jump and a small turn
The tiger will encircle you

Let your spirit dance a dance
Like the tiger encircling you
With a little jump and a small turn
Smell the rose in your hands

When the night becomes a pine tree
A tall pine tree, taller than you
Let your hands become wings
Your arms will become eagle wings

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Workers are broke
Disgusted with themselves, so vulnerable
Generous God will solve it

And we will pay the store's bills
Hierarchy will make the situation
Go forward with high quality

With reform and financial administration
It will be amended ya Abu Flan
We have no corruption

No corrupted people nor cheaters
The economy is improving
And the situation is completely safe

We did everything we wanted
We ask God to stop the evil of the envious
Work and labor and toi
We ask God for mercy for the days of corruption

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How many times I told you to stay
How many times were you with me and against me
And memories drove you off
And midnight trains are in my spirit
And rivers without water chased by scattering
How many times I told you to say
I was kidnapped by turns
Life swallows
You are bent over like a statue on the water
Eaten away by the sun
And pigeons descend on his stone forehead
And the sword of mysterious memory descends in his back
He sleeps from exhaustion and words wake him

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When the soldiers came
Mahmoud was silent
His mother was the one to say
He's still young
Mahmoud is the smell of the house
He's the last and the smallest
And the house is a wall in front of a wall
Roses are strung from the ceiling
A pillar stands in the middle
The windows are open to the sun, in any weather
The house is a turquoise bead and a laid rug
His mother was the one to say
Speaking and crying
What does Mahmoud understand?
Mahmoud is too young for the story
And the story isn't like other stories
And the story is Mahmoud
Where is Mahmoud?
He's counting his life on his fingers
He becomes confused
Sometimes its more, sometimes its less
He tries to count again
Where is Mahmoud?
His mother is the one to say
Mahmoud didn't stay silent
Crying again, she said,
Where is Mahmoud?
If he comes back, I'm going to make the sky rain for him
And the roses on the mountain walk to him
And I will walk and crawl to him with my arms and legs
And come to him and sing for him "Abou'ah, Ya Abou'ah"
Oh, my heart you are wounded
She fell, still weeping
Mahmoud is still here