Dragged away,
Run away from her! !
For, i am troubled like the tossing sea which cannot rest;
And, Damascus has grown feeble because,
Terror has seized her.
Glean, dean, wean, clean, lean, mean, bean, Jean;
And like a family without home!
But, who will come and clothe these people?
To and fro by the walls,
To and fro with the bombs,
To and fro with the bullets,
Oh, you who attack Damascus! !
You still trust in your riches but, they will not save you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem