By Charbel Baini
Translated by Mirna Nehme

For the first time in two years 
I sense the taste of happiness
The world hit me with an eye, 
Hurt me, and after a month it came, 
To embrace me and healed its wounds
Let me rejoice people 
And wipe from my cheek the tear 
If you taste the bitterness of the cup 
Which I drank in the darkness of days 
You would summarize the age in a week
Wishing someone to install me a wing 
And fly me in the high
I want to overcome winds 
Which blew in my eyes dust 
And threw me in the hardest situation
Wishing someone to sing me a song 
And play me music
Escaping from death's hands
And lying under the sun 
Sucking the light from its veins
High and proud
 Even I am a human being 
Which does not believe in daybreak
I fought hatred with faith 
I stole it from the convent's incense 
And burnt it, to scent the air
Congratulate me; congratulate the oppressed 
Who never in his age tasted mercy
The clouds started again to gather 
Promise a season of plenty 
And pour on the earth the grace

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