1. I gathered, and bread aplenty in my bag,
Yet weariness surrounds me, my soul lost in the fog.

2. I drank sweet, delicious water,
Yet feel as though I tasted only a mirage.

3. A torment unlike any,
Save that of a boat in raging seas.

4. I bear no illness, though I'm a man
Not in my land, nor amidst kith and kin.

5. Years passed, each replacing another,
My laughter for the world, my loneliness for me.

6. Whenever my soul birthed some hope,
The world stretched out a usurping hand.

7. The sweetness of dreams escaped me
When the vigor of youth slipped through my fingers.

8. Neither inspiration's door is open to me,
Nor do dreams walk in my footsteps.

9. I crave wine, and my cup is in hand,
Yet I feel my soul laid bare beneath my robe.

10. Lord, grant me return to my homeland,
And let my reward in the other be for others.

11. You who come from the hot clime,
O harbingers of good, symbol of youth,

12. How we have been broken, and broken you,
For the wish, weeping in tragedy you and us.

13. And we shared in struggle or torture,
And met in a talk or book.

14. And you knew, and we knew like you,
That truth is only for the victor and sharp fang.

15. Every land whose people neglected it,
Becomes a land for pillage and plunder.

16. They claimed that man ascended through knowledge,
Yet I see he's still a beast of the jungle.

17. He is cunning as a fox, a traitor like cancer,
And wise as a raven.

18. My friends, smash your cups,
There is no nectar left in the world to pour.

19. The udder of poetry has dried up in me,
After feeding for so long on pasture.

20. You who ask who I am,
My lineage, like the sun's, is to the East.

21. The language of steel melted my tongue,
Passion cannot thrive in tumultuous seas.

22. If others complain of estrangement,
It's no estrangement of bodies I lament.

23. My body's in New York, but my soul
In the East, upon those plateaus.

24. In the dawn's smile, the dusk's silence,
In autumn's sorrow, and August's agony.

25. I'm in al-Ghouta, a flower and dew,
I'm in Lebanon, whispers and braiding.

26. I glimpse in your faces
A stream of light upon those hilltops.

27. And I see the ghosts of bygone days,
Of struggle, resistance, and resolve.

28. And I see the specters of a brilliant era,
Rising like the sun from behind the veil.

29. Would that it hasten, that I might glimpse it,
Before I become dust among dust.