Festive Day
On this Festive Day
It shines with joy,
Spreading happiness over the world
The valley is awake,
The hill is lit up.
O Sun.. Our sun behind you sets,
And our hearts only pray for you,
Each time the festive face appears,
The world becomes sublime.
O Virgin Mary..
Enough humiliation and oppression
Done by the infidel,
Planting in our children’s chests tuberculosis
To have fun from our children’s tears
Decorate their chests with gardenia,
Remove the bombs,
And spread goodwill from your garment,
Say: The people of Lebanon
Will remain masters,
Protecting the cedar tree at all time;
They are the ones welcomed by God.
**
Lebanon
-1-
Lebanon..
The song of the nightingale,
Lebanon..
A laughter of love and happiness,
Lebanon..
The voice of the bells in the valley,
Lebanon..
A monastery and a mosque for worshipping,
Lebanon..
Blood of the heart,
Spirit of the soul,
And a door wide opened
To the faithful,
Lebanon..
Anointed with healing ointment;
Should the sick wander in its Mountains,
They will be healed and live longer;
God is the healer,
And our land the clinic
-2-
Lebanon!
What a fragrance of a plant
Unlike it anywhere
It seems eternity is its rocks
And fortresses from yonder years
Lebanon..
From the might of mount Sannine
Did build trenches of strength
And tenderness
And from the wood of cedar trees
Did set ships to sail towards eternal light!
**
Virgin Mary
Oh Virgin Mary
No matter what we say,
Words are washed away
For we are far from home.
We distanced ourselves from you,
Hence our misery
And the dream is dead
At your Annunciation,
The smiles to the child are returned.
We long for you
Forget us not
Give us your hand
And meet us all
You, most wonderful of all mothers.
**
The martyr’s blood
The martyr’s blood is wheat in the soil;
It grows to give flour to the people.
It grows to defy the army of hatred
That treads on the necks of believes.
We were a zero on the margin of life,
Too shy to carry our names
If it were not for the martyr in the trench
Ready to protect us,
There would not be an identity
For people in the universe
Without being sealed by a martyr’s finger;
He burnt out the candle of his youth
In the darkness
And on the altar of the Cedar of our Lebanon.
**
On this Festive Day
It shines with joy,
Spreading happiness over the world
The valley is awake,
The hill is lit up.
O Sun.. Our sun behind you sets,
And our hearts only pray for you,
Each time the festive face appears,
The world becomes sublime.
O Virgin Mary..
Enough humiliation and oppression
Done by the infidel,
Planting in our children’s chests tuberculosis
To have fun from our children’s tears
Decorate their chests with gardenia,
Remove the bombs,
And spread goodwill from your garment,
Say: The people of Lebanon
Will remain masters,
Protecting the cedar tree at all time;
They are the ones welcomed by God.
**
Lebanon
-1-
Lebanon..
The song of the nightingale,
Lebanon..
A laughter of love and happiness,
Lebanon..
The voice of the bells in the valley,
Lebanon..
A monastery and a mosque for worshipping,
Lebanon..
Blood of the heart,
Spirit of the soul,
And a door wide opened
To the faithful,
Lebanon..
Anointed with healing ointment;
Should the sick wander in its Mountains,
They will be healed and live longer;
God is the healer,
And our land the clinic
-2-
Lebanon!
What a fragrance of a plant
Unlike it anywhere
It seems eternity is its rocks
And fortresses from yonder years
Lebanon..
From the might of mount Sannine
Did build trenches of strength
And tenderness
And from the wood of cedar trees
Did set ships to sail towards eternal light!
**
Virgin Mary
Oh Virgin Mary
No matter what we say,
Words are washed away
For we are far from home.
We distanced ourselves from you,
Hence our misery
And the dream is dead
At your Annunciation,
The smiles to the child are returned.
We long for you
Forget us not
Give us your hand
And meet us all
You, most wonderful of all mothers.
**
The martyr’s blood
The martyr’s blood is wheat in the soil;
It grows to give flour to the people.
It grows to defy the army of hatred
That treads on the necks of believes.
We were a zero on the margin of life,
Too shy to carry our names
If it were not for the martyr in the trench
Ready to protect us,
There would not be an identity
For people in the universe
Without being sealed by a martyr’s finger;
He burnt out the candle of his youth
In the darkness
And on the altar of the Cedar of our Lebanon.
**
