Leave, you are not a pure king!
Leave from our villages, our cities, our fields and from our streets. You have soiled and destroyed many minds of the innocent, the fields and the consciences .
Leave, you have no place between us or between those people.
You are the cause for our hunger, poverty, diseases and the bombs .
Leave distantly, hear the noise of the people, tribes and soldiers.
Leave, you won't protect us. Your weapons, the secret palaces of your arsnals, the trenches and the Quarun's fortune or Haj Haial's moneys don’t mean anything to us during these revolutionary days.
Leave, the winds shake trees, destroy weak objects and which moves all human braids on their head.
Leave, the martyrs’ blood have dyed the land and watered the valleys of Fardous [high places].
Leave, with your arabesque and prepare for your departure! Don’t say no covenants and no compacts for you .
You are in the transient universe.
Leave , with your masks, your sons, your relatives and your friends; your lovers and the nervousness of the tribes.
Leave, here the sounds of birds and nightangles.
Ottawa International Poets and Writers for human Rights (OIPWHR)
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