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LEBANON

By Yusra Al-Ayoubi

 


Act One

Scene One

Scene Two

Scene Three

Scene Four

Scene Five

Scene Six

Scene Seven

Scene Eight

Act One - Scene Four

(a citizen and opportunist .. a street in a southern city)

-          Running, where are you running?

-          To the source of spring I am running

-          Running to fill your jars

While the people are thirsty

Jumping over the laws

Sharing in all benefits

To the poor are indifferent

-          Running we are running

We don’t deny

We are running

The one who doesn’t hurry

Is trodden by masses running

No power will forbid us

No morals to restrain

He who leads us

To the spring

Thanks to him from dawn to noon

He who’ll pay us

Will hear the suitable tune

Say about us what you say

Frauds, swindlers

Crooks, bribed, corrupt!

We still be running

Those who will not run

By the masses will be

Down trodden and run

Chorus

The world gathers

We separate

The world come together

We alone rupture

Tomorrow will wrinkle our faces

Hatred will stamp our races

Everyone a village

Every village a city

Every city a state

Never to build homes

 Never to establish civilization

Our mutual intimacy

Why do we ruin

A day after a day?

Why we tear the one nation?

(A Lebanese citizen picks a leaflet)

Ahmad

Today I awoke

Early in the morning

I saw on the outside threshold

The same leaflet thrown

(he reads)

Our proud masses

Christians and Moslems

This is not a sectarian war

This is not a class war

This is a conspiracy

To liquidate the resistance

Of Palestinian Fedaiin

To pass a peaceful settlement

At the expense

Of land and liberty

This is a Zionist plot

Rallied by opportunists

And the Wasp embassy

To liquidate the PLO

To flee our nation, to besiege

Fidaiin to annihilate them

After black September

By one final stroke

Our proud masses

Awake!

Don’t let the conspiracy

Win!

To the satisfaction

Of intruders, of conquerors

A neighbor

It’s true

Do you forget what happened

In the past a century ago

Between Maronites  and Druze

Behind Maronites the French

Behind the Druze the English

Both instigating the sectarian war

For one aim , to acquire

The land of honey and butter?

Chorus

We remember, we who paid the price

Cities destroyed, victims fell

Gallows swindled bodies

Swords cut throats

Young men suffered

 In the jaws of death

Instead of being free

People lost their liberty

Ahmad

Who obeys orders

Militias command

Guns are lifted

Barriers block the ways

Mines are laid away

Every one became revolutionist

When he meets his neighbor

Cries you are terrorist

Neighbor

Scandals are heard

Hearts are in agony

Killing became on the identity

No favor, no rank

However high your stature

You find no esteem

Let us leave the country

We’re threatened in this realm

Led by terrorism

By indifferent law

Of jungle new

Ahmad

Why the army doesn’t interfere?

Neighbor

This army isn’t an army

Waiting for the victim to fall

Ahmad

Who is the victim?

Neighbor

We are the victim

We have no arms

We disgust arm career

Ahmad

We sympathize

With our brothers

Being fled from their homes

Crushed by aggressive powers

We offer sacrifices

For their prior claim

We weep for their pinnacle grief

Neighbor

But our homes became a target

And graves to bury our families

Why we are trapped in such collision

Meant for our brothers

To be ourselves homeless refugees?

Chorus

Come with us to arm

Martyrdom is better

Than shot unarmed

By outlaws who pursue

Our brothers to our homes

Neighbor

This  isn’t our duty

We are civilians not military

Chorus

You say army!

Have we an army?

In five June we had men

Who bragged of our impotency

Saying that the enemy

With fifty lasses lured our army

Men who wanted to rest

To throw arms

Drink wine and sleep

In palaces defended

By international troops

We pay salaries

For this ominous army

Overseeing the sectarian

Disturbance

Ahmad

I see my neighbor

The world in our problem’s perplexed

While we the owners

Of this land, have no choice

But to join the national Militia

Or to immigrate

Neighbor

I prefer to immigrate

Ahmad

I’ll join the Militia

To defend my country and home

Chorus

Our bullets are counted

As well as the ordered errand

Orders come always from up

We are toys in its grasp

The story is the same

When many hands meddle

They deliver us to Zionists


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