Wake softly Syria
fiction
edward w pritchard
Wake softly Syria,
the sun has risen bringing morning breezes to soothe your sorrows.
Look to the horizon Damascus ancient Mother city.
Streaks of gold light entice you, awake; stir again Mother Damascus arouse your children
to productive activity.
Up and about to the souk hearty Aleppo.
Send men to trade and build.
Daylight is upon us Halab, greet foreign traders in the marketplaces.
Whisper in Aramaic humble Ma'aloula, tell the nations what comes next.
Joy and create sleepy Ras Shamrah, out to Ugarit to remind the world who taught them to write.
Awake sleeping Syria, ancient land. Your friends far away bid you reclaim your destiny.
Wake softly Syria.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment