I turned to the dry leaf that broke from the branch,
The morning wind scatters me and breaks me,
Take my dust away from here,
Tomorrow take me to your bare feet.
The same hunt hits the reeds,
There is no one who speaks, my word is upon me,
The crescent comes and lies on my knee,
The moon embraces me on one side and you on the other.
I haven't been to my homeland for seven years,
I haven't looked for a solution to my troubles,
If you come, one day don't follow me.
Ask me with your heart, not your ears.

SOUMETTRE LES CORRECTIONS