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Welcome by Alan Kirwan
01:33
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Let us in!
02:25
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Let us in! Let us in!
Our loved ones, don’t you go upsetting us
Our tradition is to dress in finery
Our tradition is to marry well
Our generosity is unsurpassed!
We’ve received an edict from the Sultan, Aamaan Aamaan…
He who gives us his daughter’s hand in marriage,
Shall be made leader of all the Arab tribes, Aamaan Aamaan...
And he who doesn’t give us his daughter’s hand,
Shall be made to clean up after our cattle, Aamaan Aamaan...
Let us in! Let us in!
Aamaan Aamaan!
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3. |
Let us in! Outroduction
01:59
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Our loved ones have left home
Gone away, without saying goodbye…
When I went by their place one morning to salute the mulberry tree,
No one was there to invite me in…
All I found was a crying bird
Regret stopped me short and pinned my feet to the thorny ground...
I sought in vain to learn what had become of them
From the houses where they once lived
Alas, my tears stained the walls of their homes…
O cameleer of the caravan!
If you come across them
Let them know that I still cry for them
Tell them my loving eyes haven’t yet closed in sleep
The good nights are gone that should have lasted forever...
Do tell our loved ones who’ve moved away,
That for anyone, hardship never lasts forever
Never lasts forever… Never lasts forever…
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O gazelle of all gazelles
You, who plan to go away!
As you set out on your journey
Offer your praise to Prophet Muhammad…
My eyes flooded with tears
I cried over our parting
And I’ll continue to cry over our parting…
I’ve taken a vow of silence
I’ve forbidden myself from dancing the dabke
I dyed my clothes dark, and I’ve gone into mourning...
I dyed my clothes indigo blue
Over the loss of my sprinting gazelle
There is none as tall or slender
I’ve looked everywhere
And I haven’t found its like...
There’s nothing like it left in this world...
The day my fate was sealed,
I’d planned to send a bird with a message
Asking how my gazelle was faring…
If it were in trouble, I’d rescue it...
As I asked the bird to carry my message away
The bird soared above me
And then abandoned me…
Hey, my coquettish beautiful one!
Hey, my pampered mate!
I’ve lain ill in bed, but you didn’t visit me…
O Lord of all mankind!
You give life and You take it away
You bring life to those who’ve been driven away
My heart has been torn apart
Because of this parting…
O gazelle of all gazelles
You, who plan to go away!
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O my eye, stop crying
O my eye, or you’ll burst
My tears pour forth without relent
At those who stole my birthright…
Those of you visiting the Prophet’s shrine
Take me aboard your caravan
I’m neither as heavy as iron
Nor will I burden you with children…
They dressed for the journey
Saying they’d be away for two days
But their parting lasted forever…
They dressed for the journey
Saying they’d be away for two days
But their parting broke my back…
Bring me the quill and inkwell
Fit for a Sultan’s scribe
And I’ll write letter upon letter
About what I had, and have no more…
I’ll sing you a lullaby, my child
I’ll bring you seven camel loads
Of pistachios and hazelnuts
When you grow your first tooth, my child…
Close your eyes, my love
You’re fast asleep by day
And wide awake by night…
Close your wide eyes, my love
You’re fast asleep by day
And beautiful as a bride by night…
I’ll sing you a lullaby, my child
I’ll bring you seven camel loads
Of pistachios and hazelnuts
When you grow your first tooth, my child…
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Tighten the belt over your waist!
Nothing else will do you good
There’ll come a day
When your Lord makes things better...
If you find carrying a heavy load on your back humiliating
It’s more dignified than holding your hand out in charity…
Come along, the lot of you!
Let’s seek God’s help and give it our best
We’ll earn what’s meant for us
And if we only make a meagre income, then so be it!
So long as you have bread to dunk in your oil
There’s no need to worry
Don’t take things to heart
Don’t make excuses!
And now the express train is stuck on the pavement
And we haven’t made a penny for the past few days
All railway stations, north and south, lie idle
And trains have been derailed
Lord have mercy on us!
They’ve cut the telephone lines
And brought down the telegraph
Would you believe that even travelling to Dilingat
Now requires a passport?
Donkeys are knackered
From carrying six people at a time
And the only means of travel
Is on beasts, by day and by night…
What else can I say?
All things come to an end
I know you’ve suffered a blow
And it’s for all to see
Poor you, there’s no money coming in or out
There must be a way somehow
Just have faith in the Almighty…
Tell me, on the Prophet’s honour
Haven’t we had enough to cope with already?
Whilst some lucky sod can afford two wives
Such misery this life has dealt us!
Yet the jinxed shall remain jinxed forever
Even if they hang a lantern over their doorstep...
‘Siktir!’ Money is not everything
True happiness lies in the richness of the soul...
Come help me with my load!
Hardship never lasts
One day, you’ll live as well as you once did!
Hardship never lasts
Hela, hela, hela, hela! Hela, hela, hela, let’s go!
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Read the news, Shaykh Quffaa’a!
In the latest Bourse journal
I’ll shave my beard
If you don’t dance with joy
You’ll dance and dance and dance!
This morning augurs well
And life is getting better
Dear Sirs, shout: Hurrah! Shout: Brava!
The war is now finish–ed
Finish–ed! Finish–ed! Finish–ed!
After eating bread and broth
And salad and patties that knock you out
We can now scoff two or three ounces
Of horsemeat smothered in ghee
We’ll scoff and scoff and scoff!
As long as mutton is dear
And so too is veal
We shouldn’t be fussy
A horse or a donkey or a mule will do
For sure, we’ll never starve
For sure, for sure, for sure!
There’ll come a day
When we gloat at the merchants of war
And just as we’ve suffered
They too shall suffer
And we’ll laugh our hearts out
Ha ha! Ha ha! Ha ha!
Come, let’s unwind our turbans
And dress à la mode
And bathe in a tub full of cologne
And travel to Europe to see the world
The world, the world, the world!
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The Vinegar Cup
Poem by Mu’in Bseiso
Cast your lots, people
Who’ll get my robe
After crucifixion?
The vinegar cup in my right hand
The thorn crown on my head
And the murderer has walked away free
While your son has been led to the cross…
But I shall not run
From the vinegar cup
Nor the crown of thorns…
I’ll carve the nails of my cross from my own
bones, and continue,
Spilling drops of my blood onto this earth…
For if I should not rip apart
How would you be born from my heart?
How would I be born from your heart?
Oh, my people!
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The ship sounded its horn
Sailing out to sea
Turning its back on home, the best place of all…
The ship sounded its horn
Ferrying men to their drowning
On their way to far–off lands
Where the pain of exile burns like unquenched thirst...
Turning its back on friends
And companions…
Families’ faces pale and yellow
In sorrow and grief…
The ship sounded its horn so loud
Sailing back home
Carrying men beloved of their people
Their hands trembling…
Their loved ones’ tears
Sting and burn their faces
Their eyelids smarting with pain…
The ship sounded its horn
Heading out to sea
Sailing off to foreign lands
Turning its back on bright skies
Uprooting young men from fertile lands
To a life so harsh
Just as the rain–soaked valley
Fills up with tree trunks and branches…
The ship sounded its horn
Driven away from home
With a bow so sharp
Slicing through the foaming waves
Like a knife through cheese
Spouting coffins into the blue sea
Making ships quake in fear
As the sea surges backwards and forwards…
The ship sailed into the mist
Shrouded in fog
Packed to the gunnels with the best of men
Offered up to foreign lands
Without respite, like mules
The only difference between them and the cattle on board
Is the passport... the passport... the passport…
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This is Yarmouk!
O moon...
Your light will wipe the darkness of the siege
On your white doorsteps…
The children’s smiles will vanquish
The pains of my demise…
And the martyrs’ blood
Will breathe life into me…
And through the blessings of old mothers
I’ll imbibe the anthems of my triumph…
This is Yarmouk!
My song... my desire... my yearning
Are all for my home...
This is Yarmouk! This is Yarmouk!
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Imhaaha:
Aweeha!
Praise God, my heart’s patience is finally rewarded
Aweeha!
And the wound of longing is healing after so much pain
Aweeha!
I swear by Him who created the clear stars above
Aweeha!
I’ve waited endlessly for this day
Song:
Praise God, praise God, praise God!
Praise God, that evil is no more
We planted peppers in the heat
Our foes said they wouldn’t turn red
Praise God, our peppers grew and turned red!
Praise God, that sorrow is no more
We planted carnations in the heat
Our foes said they wouldn’t bloom
Praise God, our carnations grew and bloomed!
You built a room
And we built a room
Our brides are finely dressed
In the ways of our fathers and forefathers…
Fill up the builder’s pitcher
You, with hands dyed in henna!
It’s neither in the bragging of women
Nor in the boasting of our song…
You saddled your horses
And we saddled our horses
Our young men are serving coffee
In the ways of our fathers and forefathers…
Praise God, that evil is no more
We planted peppers in the heat
Our foes said they wouldn’t turn red
Praise God, our peppers grew and turned red!
“O Abdul Qadir al–Jilani, our love for your message brings us closer to God!”
Praise God, that sorrow is no more
We planted carnations in the heat
Our foes said they wouldn’t bloom
Praise God, our carnations grew and bloomed!
Praise God, our peppers grew and turned red!
Praise God, our peppers grew and turned red!
Praise God, our carnations grew and bloomed!
Praise God, we built a house!
And it’s now full of newlyweds!
Praise God, praise God, praise God!
Praise God, praise God, praise God!
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Reem Kelani London, UK
Reem Kelani is an independent artist. Please buy Reem’s music & support her work.
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