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
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