Lyrics
(Intro)
In the shadowed alleys of Gaza, Where olive trees weep and skies bear witness, A tale unfolds—a symphony of sorrow, Written in the dust of ancient stones.
The sun, once a golden promise, Now casts its weary gaze upon rubble, And children play amidst the remnants, Their laughter echoing defiance.
Verse 1:
In the heart of Ramallah, where dreams once bloomed, Hope clings to fractured walls like jasmine vines. Mothers weave stories into kaffiyeh scarves, Their tears inked with resilience.
The muezzin’s call reverberates through minarets, A haunting melody that cradles hope. In Jenin’s refugee camp, where memories linger, Grandmothers whisper lullabies of return.
Chorus:
Oh, Palestine, your wounds are maps of memory, Etched upon hearts scarred by exile. From Jenin to Hebron, the land weeps, And the stars bear witness to our silent cries.
Verse 2:
In Nablus, where ancient markets breathe, Merchants barter memories of olive groves. Their eyes—deep wells of longing— Hold the weight of generations.
The Jordan River flows, a silver ribbon of hope, Binding Jericho’s palms and Bethlehem’s hills. Children trace its veins in the dust, Their innocence a rebellion.
Bridge:
The olive branch, a fragile emblem, Weaves tales of survival across checkpoints. Fathers teach sons to tend the groves, Their hands calloused, their hearts unyielding.
In the refugee camps of Khan Yunis, Canvas tents house dreams of return. The sea whispers secrets to fishermen, Promises of freedom beyond the horizon.
Chorus:
Oh, Palestine, your wounds are maps of memory, Etched upon hearts scarred by exile. From Jenin to Hebron, the land weeps, And the stars bear witness to our silent cries.
Instrumental Interlude:
The oud weeps, its strings echoing Nakba, And the wind carries tales of lost villages. Mountains stand guard, their rugged peaks Breathing stories of resilience.
Outro:
As the muezzin’s call weaves through minarets, And moonlight bathes the Dome of the Rock, We stand—defiant, unyielding— For Palestine, our heartbeat, our hymn.
