Beirut looks, to me, like
A beautiful young girl,
Full of life,
Full of mirth,
Who made no mistake,
Who can not be blamed,
For being created
So cheerful,
Jealousy not love
Has surrounded
Beirut since birth,
Yet all traps and tricks
To destroy innocent
Beirut failed,
And Beirut will be Beirut,
Until Dooms Day.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem