Are Not In Our Gardens Crimson Flowrs..? Poem by Mohammad Younus

Are not in our gardens crimson flowers, ...
Like the cheeks of our martyrs?
Is not in the sound of the summer breeze, ...
Passing over the fountains, brooks, lakes, and meadows, ...
The mourning shrieks of parents, brothers, sisters, and children?
When shall the morning chirping of birds make the sweetest harmony!
Melodious singing! that inflames, and pleases me, !
May their song be never more interrupted by snipers' pelleting!