The wailing, Eid proclaims the dawn of happiness
But how people would listen.
When their ears covered with wails and screams.
How would they see the decoration of joy?
When their mystic home is coated with young blood.
How would they see crescent moon?
When their kids butchered in day’s light.
Widowed mother sing songs of separation ,
In the memory of their beloved son.
Desperate son’s tears fall in front of his father’s grave.
Beloved Lover makes her own songs to present a wish,
Before his arrival,
But how one would escalate sadness,
When her lover is no more.
Waning moon illuminates the mourning night.
A new dawn enlighten before the night of dream.
Now, Our dear ones calling us from heaven.
To announce the coming dawn of freedom