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Oh, wind that carries the dust of my home...
Do you still know my name?
Do the old stones... the old stones... remember the boy I was?
Beneath the lemon tree... ya lemuni...
The well is dry where the women once sang...
Their songs are echoes... tangled in thorns...
And the door to my father's house... ya bayti...
Stands open to the moon... a silent scream...
And I wear this exile... like a shroud of lead...
Each step away... is a step among the dead...
My love... my love... was a lantern in your hand...
Why did you... ila li... let the sea... claim this land...
The night... ya layl... stretches its skin...
A drum... with no beat... for the dance to begin...
I trace the patterns... on a forgotten tile...
And measure my life... by a vanished mile...
Ahlan... wa sahlan... you whisper no more...
Just the scent of jasmine... outside an empty door...
...An empty door.
