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الجمعة 19 نوفمبر 2010

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Tripoli Used To Be The Place I Belong

I’d play on the wide sandy beach,
In its blue and clear water, I’d swim,
And the children I’d teach,
I wouldn’t suffer the sun at noon,
If I were home.

I’d stand among the high palm trees,
And glance,
Their leaves with the wind would sing,
And dance,
And every whistle in the sky would be a tone,
If I were home.

I’d breathe the breeze that blows
From the old sea,
Where the ships knelt to the continent’s key,
I’d wonder,
How many wreckages were drown?
If I were home.

The Castle would greatly reflect her redness,
She would tell the history by her witness,
How many Tyrants passed on her Throne.
If I were home.

I’d walk at night
Along the old narrow streets,
Their stones and doors would follow me,
And whisper to my ears,
“ Here was the Glory “,
And the darkness would disappear
By the brightest moon,
Oh, if I were home ,
If I were home

Ibn Al-Shatti


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