الغربة [Al Ghorba] [English translation]
الغربة [Al Ghorba] [English translation]
A simple young man, dreaming of becoming something
from a slum, where there are loads of people in need
A long time ago, before we've known discrimination and racism
A long time ago, before people were torn apart by segregating them into classes
I'm not going to compare between our current times and how it was back in his days
Now, one's value is his money and not his respect
The boy traveled outside the country to secure his future
and he feared God in what he did, and he made well for himself
two years passed and he married the most beautiful girl his eyes have ever seen
From the first time he saw her, he prayed for her to be his
and they started a small house, brick by brick, one by one
she was his backbone in the cold of foreignness and loneliness
and swiftly, they were gifted 1 with the prettiest girl
and three brothers followed
the house grew and became warm, and the foreign forgot about his foreignness
his home became their arms and his happiness was being with them
his mistake was, he forgot that happiness doen't last
sickness knew their way, it started visiting them every day
death chose to take his eldest son
it is never late, it comes sharp on time 2
and after they barely bounced back from the shock they were in
and death took away the youngest in its following visit
and war erupted in the Gulf in 99'
we came back to live in foreignness
foreignness doesn't end
we were born in it, and we shall live in it
between being a foreigner in my own country
and many other countries that I am not related to
a new beginning in a town where no one lived
they called it Nasr, a wide desert and a few houses
he tried and fought, tried to find something but there was no chance
he said to himself, in all honesty: I have no place in my own country
he resolved to foreignness again, and left his lover to the children
every Saturday, it was a long phone call on time
assuring them, telling them how much he's missed them
and his children reply that they really want to see him
foreignness is never a choice when there are no options
separation does not get shorter, it always gets longer
and we think that the gifts will make it up to our loved ones
who said that gifts can replace the absentee?
one time the letter has a photo and the other has a tape of a story
all this is not enough, they still miss you
and life is flying by, just like the running of his beloved son
after a taxi that's going to the airport, just like the one before
he used to cry every time his father goes away
and when his father is back, he sleeps in his arms, yes I do remember
I remember every word, every detail and every second
because this is the story of my father, not any other story
it's similar to the stories of many other foreigners
the ones who moved away months ago and the ones who immigrated years ago
and the story doesn't end, for foreignness runs in our blood
a generation hands down to the following, and surely we are going to hand it to the ones who come after us
foreignness doesn't end
we were born in it, and we shall live in it
between being a foreigner in my own country
and many other countries that I am not related to
before us and among us were many people who dreamed
of a vast, green land
and unmatched prosperity
and when they woke up, they found that all the land is barren
they opened their eyes in the darkness, the darkness of the minds
ones who break down the rocks and ones who decided to take the short way
the ones who took the short way moved away and eventually made something
in the end, this is a letter filled with appreciation for my father
he slaved his life away so I can say I have this and I have that
1. by God2. death
- Artist:Zap Tharwat
- Album:Al Madina | المدينه