The Sea Does Not Feed Its Children

land is threw you And was laid on pavilion of a poem It may not mislead characters ... Who are you? A homeland on the door of hell though it appeared your is emigration was to merit did not shake the anti-palm trunk To fall in your hand Wet promises to the waves of the sea His Salt ... The lust of the hard soul ... maybe That ... kill you Your word is your land Arabism is no longer enough To feed you A dark dream Between border modesty Satisfaction of expatriate saints Blow your sadness, will kill you And you are who Taken from the hands of your priest retained for the mole He will not let you down Believe you are the close neighbors of your soul What inflicts the predestination for you It was like a piece of candy My hand fell from your mouth The sea does not lay down its children My name is Yabibi It is the paradise of the highest mortal Of false nectar As a tomb, its inhabitants did not inquire A song to grieve your childhood Sleep, my love It is no longer within history He who condemns your innocence Or ask you Is his condition The sea does not feed its children