The Village of Hardine The Village of the Windmill I may do things the old way Milling grain with windmill dreams Slowly, that's how we caress our desires While the windmill turns My ears listen to the birds that sing My village is quiet now Love letters left here long ago So I mill my grain, as wildflowers grow Softly I dance inside my head Wishing my lover, she was not dead Habibte, my memories are for only you I sell my grain, and pay my dues Within my heart, is only, only you Droughts and war, habibte our love stronger still Holding you, now a silly illusion Back then so soft and so true Our love Torn from our grasp Dream of me habibte I know you are high above Dream of me Soon I will hold your angel wings No wars or evils shall keep us apart I mill my grain on this dreary day Knowing soon, we shall both fly up and away Love has escaped us here on earth The seventh day I sit by your grave I sing you songs as you did to me Oh habibte, let death bring me to thee I sigh each time at your vision of splendor Let Kassab make us this miracle Love has patience, habibte Wait for me As I wait for you Kisses forever, boukra