How fast life goes! How slow we feel!
When someone dear leaves us for real.
How hard it gets! How tough the deal!
If they're sublime and have ideals.
They pay so much and beat ordeals.
Their names spread and shake regimes.
They shine so bright and join sunbeams.
They soar so high no one can reach.
They speak a tongue no one can teach.
Such is Sarout, a martyred icon;
A free Syria on the horizon.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem