Palestina - Israël

🇵🇸🇮🇱 These kids in Gaza sing a song about their homeland.

The sad thing is, Israel has probably never let them out of Gaza to see it.

The song is titled 'Come To My City'.

Here's the translation (may not be exactly accurate):

Come to my hometown and see
How the sea smiles at you,
To smell the soil of our hometown
And draw your glory on its rock (x2)

Come to the coast of Haifa
And keep its sand for souvenir,
Take a photo of the streets of Jaffa
And a walk on the wall of Acre (x2)

Come to my hometown and see
How the sea
How the sea smiles to you

Jerusalem and it’s streets
And sky, are the most beautiful place,
Come to us
And ask about us
Our hometown is the address of generosity

If you want to feel joy
Nazareth will send you peace,
The party is sweet
With a hundred greetings
And beautiful words are at your presence

Come to Wadi ‘Ara,
A pot of coffee is over the fire,
Visit us town by town,
Our hearts are the home of your eyes (x2)

Come to my hometown and see
How the sea
How the sea smiles to you

I’ve wandered around many countries,
But I never saw any place as beautiful as you,
Nothing even as beautiful as your mountains,
flowers and birds are singing
Yaba leyl leyl leyl leyly
Leyly leyly

I sang Dalouna to my hometown,
And she replied with Magina,
And the Dahiya flirts with Dabke
And the Atana
Oooooof

I missed the story told by my granny
Which gathered us in the courtyards,
I missed the bread with olive oil and Za’atar (thyme)
And the olive tree,

I went to so many places and what a hard journey to me,
I never met any place dearer than my hometown,
In poetry, literature, science, art
And the sweetest melodies

I’ve wandered around many countries,
But I never saw any place as beautiful as you,
Nothing even as beautiful as your mountains,
flowers and birds are singing
Yaba leyl leyl leyl leyly
Leyly leyly

I sang Dalouna to my hometown,
And she replied with Magina,
And the Dahiya flirts with Dabke
And the Atana
Oooooof

I missed the story told by my granny
Which gathered us in the courtyards,
I missed the bread with olive oil and Za’atar (thyme)
And the olive tree,

I went to so many places and what a hard journey to me,
I never met any place dearer than my hometown,
In poetry, literature, science, art
And the sweetest melodies

Oooof oooof oooof
Aman aman aman aman
aman aman aman
Oh my hometown



Mike
 
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