a small girl at the age of the moon
(semut = i'll die?) with her with the hearts of humanity
and my eyes looked up at her gaze
I glorify the Creator for envisioning her
in it a piece of marble she loves
the smell of jasmines blossomed
Gori , basil, musk and amber
keep out the taste with the green color
on its sky a crescent and .......
an Azan in the name of the Creator it says "Allahu Akbar"
the increased ringing of the bells, a holiday
a call to prayers in itthe soul is purified
the incense are piled in places
yearning in it every pertified heart
Damascus you are my daughter and mother
I embraced you in my youth, will I grow up within you?
what must I do to earn your blessings?
For I've sown my youth and preached inside you
For if those who make trills increase their inquries
to the delight of the heart who's wounds are fermented
its is a promise that forever live, i hope until my grave
and until my wedding gown withers..
