Our wine existed before what you all call the grape and the vine
our rivers flowed before what you knew as rain and water
our gardens bloomed before you ever stepped foot into our oasis
You may sew our eyes shut, but this burning light eternally illuminates
pluck our eyes, but we are all-seeing
do not guide us, for we are far from lost
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem