Kurdistan: A Dream Deferred

How cruel it is when the wound becomes a homeland,
And how sweet when longing is a path
That leads only to you...
But tell me, when will history grant you justice?
Or are you a dream postponed until fate allows?

O land that dwells in the soul before the body,
O promise yet to be fulfilled…
Has the time not come for the winds to rest,
For the mountains to embrace their children without fear?

Kurdistan, O star that brightens the darkness of absence...
When will fate cease to steal you away?
And when will the traveler return,
The one lost between borders not drawn by love?

In your features, glory leans for rest,
And on your paths, the exiled march home despite the storms...
Will your night stretch on further,
Or is dawn creeping towards you,
As love creeps into the heart?

Your wounds have taught me
That dignity comes at a heavy price.
Your mountains have taught me
That bending is not in the dictionary...
So how can love not intoxicate you,
When you are the aged wine of pride?

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