1. Where are we from? My little one stammered
With her words, her lips so small

2. And her eyes clung on and
Silently cried out the bitter silence

3. Trying to interrogate my reverie
About some grand secret

4. Where are we from? And mist in
My eyes like scorching embers

5. And I hugged my child, and the question,
And squeezed out a smile to console my thoughts

6. Behind its shine, I shrouded
Twenty heartrending lines

7. Twenty from the age of the martyr
Yes, and from my woeful fate

8. Where from? A story of a
Revolution raging at a rosy cheek

9. Do you want it? The tragedy of your
Motherland’s martyrdom, my little one!

10. Who ignited the innocent chest,
And shook your blood with questions!

11. Do you want your bloody tale,
With no quenching or fantasy?

12. Every year there is a pause
As we feel the memory’s shadows

13. We check the buried wound,
And draw from it determination

14. Do not burden the innocent chest,
And leave it prolonged sorrows

15. Torn, grieving fragments
On rhyming verses ongoing

16. Where are we from? Should I borrow
The bereaved smile for a saying!

17. And answer the child’s murmur,
And shake off the glowing embers!

18. My wound in the north will remain,
Casting in my flames the mold

19. We are from the slain nation,
From the wounds, from the storms

20. From a boulder the martyr stumbled
Behind it with the martyr’s blood

21. From a green hillside which
Gleamed divinity in hymn

22. From the rib of a waterfall relating
To the vale timeless tales

23. From a thousand brooks murmuring
Drunken in my poem

24. We are dust, my little one
Thirsty beyond the frontiers

25. My home there and my tent
Rebelling against prostration

26. Two small boats I almost rip
In them the smell of resilience

27. Two doves with songs
Of resurrection, and new dawn

28. We are the threads of the
First pulse when dawn rises high

29. And a storm bursts out in the
Bedouins’ land, and good prevails

30. From the bank of the Orontes, from
The waterfall, ruined by destruction

31. From Dafne and its plateaus
Silence, longing, and anticipation

32. From a coast whose waves are
Bitter and its rock tender

33. Visions of the greater nation were born,
And the young dreams nursed

34. Where from? Do not ask your father,
Our path is thorns and fire

35. Tomorrow you will know, the
Bitter stretch did not end or the travels

36. By the sea, by the Gulf,
There our caravan will rest

37. Tomorrow you will know, my Moun, how
This country was torn apart!

38. How your Arab cradle was
Usurped, and the cradle robbed

39. How the flag of Arabism
Fell, to be dressed in mourning

40. How many a body was wrapped in its folds
And ransomed with darkness

41. And the bullets’ shreds scattered
And its congestion rifted stubbornly

42. And we grieved for the martyr,
And the “wolves” won as they wanted

43. And the slain nation received,
And the struggle gathered the wound

44. And over the “leader’s” bier walked
A gang who ruled and cushioned

45. Tomorrow you will know, how the
Hirelings in my nation “struggled” and “protected”!

46. My fate, and your generation knows
What terrible darkness!

47. In its darkness the victim was slaughtered
So it is a hymn in the fangs

48. And the rebels are buds,
Straying on the path

49. Oh the crime in the north,
And the tragedy in the south!

50. We did not die out.. my Moun..
My nation’s flame above the disasters

51. We did not die out.. Sunset lied,
And whoever bites on sunset

52. Hear the returning people’s murmur
Shaking the unknown’s ribs

53. And bursting history into an epic,
And a goodly pulse and perfume

54. We’re back.. to erase from
The sun’s life the vanished catastrophe

55. Listen atop the struggle’s peaks,
It shakes Najd after Najd

56. A voice like the fiery thirst
Over the rubble lies ablaze

57. Millions thirsty lean over,
To drink violence and glory

58. And your Arab giant makes
A heart, throat, and arms for its call

59. Your symbol.. we believed
In our ransomed rebel

60. In the swarthy guide.. and morning bid
A caravan to defy

61. In history embodied into a song,
In a people melted into one

62. We are yours, oh Jamal,
So let the desert thunder wildly

63. And with us destroy a dam on
The tyrants’ heads, hurl a dam

64. By the sea, on the Gulf,
Our call rests and subsides

65. We are your right hand in the banner,
And in Oman, and in Algeria

66. In every field where a rebel
Breathed, and a rebel

67. In every hut lined
With the fragrant future and stones

68. Burying your visions,
Awakening at tidings

69. And living in our blood.. and let
The night innovate curtains

70. The Arab world is your treasure
Fated for you, overseeing

71. Baghdad our fortress.. and a specter
The procession of exiles fleeting

72. And the Atlantic a poem
Arabian in a poet’s imagination

73. Where from? Reply to my little one,
For the sweet question compels

74. To our mighty unity is the appointment,
And for tragedy an end!