In the chronicle of past time night ...

I see that lovely knight
On the 14^th of march light
Behind his dark divine eyes
All his sovereignty praises
Were divining prophecies.

But now in this present day
My eyes wonder about such decay?
Now more I learn more I swear
Look upon our fate and curse our fucking despair.

Now from us He is the absent Spring
He sowed a free spirit in every thing
Now all the Lebanese birds are mute
With four orphans on an unfathered tree.

What old December’s bareness everywhere increase
A widowed fatherland after his son’s decease
Bearing the wanton burden of the crime.