This is Damascus, the city of love and splendour,
In her, roses and basil roam.
I loved her from the day she was created,
A beautiful dream that even sleeplessness feared.
I gifted her poems from books,
In her, our ancestors preceded the world.
O Damascus, I have loved no other homeland but
Whose inhabitants are glory itself,
If only they could speak.
We were created as hope for humanity,
We run so that the horizon may run after us.
They extinguished the lantern in joy,
And stole the radiance from our celebrations.
You are the white stars in the twilight,
Were it not for you, no,
It would not clear. The twilight
And the sun, you are Damascus, my country
Who said that the sun burns?
The sea is your love, and I am the beloved
How often I drowned, and drowning spared me
**
