Traduction anglaise

The visa

Poem By: Hisham Al-Jakh (Egypt)

I praise in God's name
Except you and I fear no one
I know I have my destiny and I'll it meet it.... I'll meet it
I learned in childhood that my Identity (Arabism) is my honor
And forelock and banner
In our schools, we were repeating some rimes
We were singing amongst ourselves for instants example
Arab countries are my country - And all the Arabs are my brothers
We draw an Arab svelte graceful
His chest would block the wind if howl in his mantle
We were pure children
Our feelings move us
We moonlighted in the tales that spoke of heroism
And our country extends from (one end to another) the maximum to the maximum
And our wars were all for the sake of the Al-Aqsa Mosque

And our enemy is Zion
Is a Satan has a tail
And the armies of our nation
Has a deed like a Torrent
I'll sail when I grow up

I'll pass by Bahrain's beach in Libya
I'll pick the dates of Baghdad in Syria
And pass from Mauritania to Sudan
I travel through Mogadishu to Lebanon

I hide poems in my heart and sentiment
Arab countries are my country - And all the Arabs are my brothers

As I grew older
I did not get a visa to the sea
Did not set sail
, The unstamped passport by the window stopped me
Did not cross
When I grew older
Did not set sail did not cross
I grew up
But the child did not grow up
We fought our childhood

And ideas we learned our principles on your hands O the rulers of our nation
We tormented our Childhood
And ideas we learned their principles on your hands O the rulers of our nation
Aren't you the ones we brought up in your schools?
We learned your curriculums


We learned on your hands that the sly fox is waiting to eat the naive sheep if he remained in his deep slumber
Didn't you teach that straws are protected by its bundle and weak when is singular
Why the foolish division rules us
Aren't you the ones who we learned on your hand Steadfast to faith in God and Unite?
Why do you obscure the sunlight with your flags?
You divided our Identity between yourselves as an income we have become like beasts

The child will remain in my chest antagonizing you
We got divide on your hands Strayed and lost
I am an Arab not ashamed
I was born in green Tunisia of Omani origin
And I am more than a "thousand and my mother still pregnant
I am an Arab in Baghdad I have a palm tree
And in Sudan arteries
I'm an Egyptian of Mauritania, Djibouti and Oman
Christian, Sunni, Shiite and Kurd, and Druze and Alawi
I do not save the names and as the rulers leave
We got dispersed on your hands
And all the people are pigmented
We are tired of dispersing and all the people are pigmented
You filled our thoughts with lies, forgery and falsehood
Do God's hand unite us and FIFA's hand divide us
Deliberately forsaken our religion
So we came back Aws and Khazraj(Old Arab Tribes)
Our ignorance looms within us
And we await stupidity for a way out
Whatever rulers of our nation the child remain in my chest antagonizing you
Judge you
And will declare our Arab nation united
Sudan is not divided
Not Golan occupied


Nor Lebanon Refracted treating its wound alone
Will gather our Arabian gulf's pearls and cultivate them in the Sudan
Its seed will yield wheat Arabian Morocco
People will press oil in proud Palestine
Relative drink it in Somalia for ever
Will come out of mantle with God blessings

For public burning
He is the public not you
He is the rulers do not you
Do you hear me Hordes (Oppressor tools)?
Do you hear me the bureaus of bastion of your government
He is the Rulers not you I'm not afraid of anyone of you
He is Islam not you so stop your commerce


Or else he will become an apostate
And feared the people that this roustabout
And the camel that propagated

You will not get its milk nor get its calf
I'm staying and my legitimacy in the air remains

We were fed injustice by containers
We were fed ignorance by prayers
Fed up with watering and sommelier
I warn you
We will stay despite your sedition!
This nation is connected
Your bondage are weakened
But God's bondage is steadfast
I'll grow up leaving the child
My colors and my brush
And he will remain painting the Arab
Svelte graceful
It remains sound of my rimes
Arab countries are my country - And all the Arabs are my brothers

Hisham Al-Jakh