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LEBANON

By Yusra Al-Ayoubi

 


Act Three

Scene One

Scene Two

Scene Three

Scene Four

Scene Five

Scene Six

Scene Seven

Act Three - Scene Five

Diana's eulogy

Never I'll know exultation

After my only love and protector gone

Who ever will do me consolation

Will sadden me to abomination

Alive he is my love, his spirit will never quit

The land of terror, of various sects

A man innocent of fanatic hatred 

Why should he be a victim

Of fanatic hatred?

His look immaculate

His enmity was full

Of compassion to humanity

Had been harassed by terrorists

His blood will hover

Over our souls

To fill our hearts with regret

By new generations will be mourned

When they come to unity, to reason

His hapless star brought him

Before his time

Then plucked the rose in bloom

His soul will live the instant he died

To urge humanity to reason,

To a better way of life

The man who shot him dead

Will be cursed by his son

Will be for ever in shame

Oh you cruel dawn what have you murdered?

To my heart full of agony

That my child will live fatherless

With no hope

From his journey to return!

That he preferred the peace

Of grave

Than the light of the sun

Jamilah

His nation before him

Was forsaken

Down-trodden by the nations

When his right to live in his land

Was shattered by acclamation

Of usurpers who won?

Diana

Ah Jamilah, something queer I feel

In my heart that still beats

With his love

Why did I link my life to his

To beget from many such a hate

Better if he remained

An eagle alone inviolate

Perhaps I shared in his fate

So near he was to base souls

Full of envy, jealousy

To fanaticism, prejudice

To those who coveted me

To the chaos of my life

That deprived him of his power

He was distracted by protecting me

Than being free to protect himself

Our love was welded by flame

We could not see the barriers to unite

A Maronite with PLO Sunnite

And instead to rest in my arm

In a grave he rested calm

(Diana weeps)

Jamilah

Don't blame yourself Diana dear

Even if he was on a cliff

He would never be secured

Those who coveted his land

Would chase him for ever

To bend his will

He would never avoid danger

Those who coveted your rivers

Would find any claim to violate your land

Paganists in old times were more truthful

When they waged a war

They said: "We want your gold and silver

We enslave you for this cause"

The will of power is still

But it masques itself well


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