The wound refused to submit.

I no longer have what steals the soul

Has the scent of sadness begun to waft?

With the soul and cauterizes all wounds

We cry over tragedies and the heart wails

We create in my heart diseases and pains that reveal

Oh my suffering, do not let sadness loom on the horizon

If we are scattered in the wounded homeland?

What is the condition of the prisoners and the slaughtered martyr?

How are the revolutionaries in the prisons and their blood is flowing?

For we are with God, the servants of the Most Merciful, inclined towards peace

So do not rob me of my memories and my strength, for I am honest

Untie my chains and leave my land, for I am persevering

For if I stop and pause, you will all become like a slaughtered sheep on a feast day?

So what sadness, I no longer have what steals the soul

Except a wound that refused to submit and wanted to incline towards peace?

I said: No, even if you were a slave, O sadness, or a wiped wiped

So one day, O rebel, you will become in the sky, climbing the towers?

Do not be stingy with me, for the wind plays there on the roofs

A tune that reveals the soul's sorrows