By Charbel Baini
Translated by Mirna Nehme

The travel dust is stuck to my clothes
It multiplies on its own 
It tore my pockets
Its colour the colour of darkness
From it many became crazy 
How does a day face me 
And all the age lying dreams
A dust that does not have mercy 
On the cry of the yearning 
To the stones of a small house 
They became old 
There in a village on the wind elbow 
Between it and between the sun
It drew a line 
And on the line it set up swings 
To swing poems and longings
Still the same as I left ages ago
Love and hospitality
Sacrifice and faith
And neighbours from their laughters 
Rise a moon
The word welcome greeted all mankind
And despite the hatred, 
The war, 
The danger craziness 
Neighbours remained 
So Lebanon remained
How do I accomplish my return?
And the hope bird drowning in my tears
The hands are waving with a scarf 
Long time ago repeating ballads:
The homeland hunger like worries heavy
And Lebanon is not feeling my hunger

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