Pobeda Blizka

Yateer

Sab'a Sita Ethnain
Pobeda blizka
By Abu Khattab

Your ice that covers the luscious green,
Your mountains that are sewn to the clear, blue sky.
Your forests that swarm the core of your heart,
They've seen enough of the thick, red dye.

I see a land that's seen too much,
My sisters widowed - my brothers fall.
The falling of shells is a common sound,
A generation has come that's language is war.

I see the tanks march in like soldiers,
Destroying towns and killing the weak.
Driven by devils whose hearts have sunk,
Making your portrayal to seem so bleak.

The falling snow covers up the truth,
Your story untold to the ears out there.
A mosaic of shards that stab the eyes,
The truth not seen so nobody would care.

Lions had come to liberate your borders,
A journey had started to bring the peace.
But returned they are to their Lord, The Just,
But their fighting legacy will surely not cease.

My cringing heart screams throughout the night,
Trying to call those who've lost their world.
A hopeless feeling overcame my soul,
When I saw their fingers as they gently curled.

My brothers who remain have an untold story,
Of the years of struggle that is yet to end.
The narrators silent but the Kalashnikova is drawn,
Sounding in the forests and around every bend.

That is the speech that is heard today,
The vernacular word that is understood by all.
War is that which is written on paper,
The papers of history which on graves they fall.

By the One Who controls the sun and the moon,
By the One Who gives life and surely gives death,
By the One Who is King of the heavens and earth,
My true brothers will fight until their last breath.

You may strike their bodies with searing wounds,
But do you not see that they wish for this?
For death to them is like life for you,
Yearning and striving for the everlasting bliss.

The snow may fall on what fails to be seen,
By those who seek to quench their hearts with truth.
But know there is an All-Seer Who watches over,
The affairs of man - be it happiness or sleuth.

So continue O land of the ousted soviets,
In your devilish campaign against the land of the snow.
But know that words will defeat your might,
And send you back with a devastating blow.

There is no Lord but Him Who has promised us victory,
Be it today or tomorrow but His promise is not flawed.
But victory is near - we can already taste it's sweetness,
Be it that of martyrdom or that with the sword...



*!
 

sabina isa

Junior Member
Pobeda blizka
By Abu Khattab

Your ice that covers the luscious green,
Your mountains that are sewn to the clear, blue sky.
Your forests that swarm the core of your heart,
They've seen enough of the thick, red dye.

I see a land that's seen too much,
My sisters widowed - my brothers fall.
The falling of shells is a common sound,
A generation has come that's language is war.

I see the tanks march in like soldiers,
Destroying towns and killing the weak.
Driven by devils whose hearts have sunk,
Making your portrayal to seem so bleak.

The falling snow covers up the truth,
Your story untold to the ears out there.
A mosaic of shards that stab the eyes,
The truth not seen so nobody would care.

Lions had come to liberate your borders,
A journey had started to bring the peace.
But returned they are to their Lord, The Just,
But their fighting legacy will surely not cease.

My cringing heart screams throughout the night,
Trying to call those who've lost their world.
A hopeless feeling overcame my soul,
When I saw their fingers as they gently curled.

My brothers who remain have an untold story,
Of the years of struggle that is yet to end.
The narrators silent but the Kalashnikova is drawn,
Sounding in the forests and around every bend.

That is the speech that is heard today,
The vernacular word that is understood by all.
War is that which is written on paper,
The papers of history which on graves they fall.

By the One Who controls the sun and the moon,
By the One Who gives life and surely gives death,
By the One Who is King of the heavens and earth,
My true brothers will fight until their last breath.

You may strike their bodies with searing wounds,
But do you not see that they wish for this?
For death to them is like life for you,
Yearning and striving for the everlasting bliss.

The snow may fall on what fails to be seen,
By those who seek to quench their hearts with truth.
But know there is an All-Seer Who watches over,
The affairs of man - be it happiness or sleuth.

So continue O land of the ousted soviets,
In your devilish campaign against the land of the snow.
But know that words will defeat your might,
And send you back with a devastating blow.

There is no Lord but Him Who has promised us victory,
Be it today or tomorrow but His promise is not flawed.
But victory is near - we can already taste it's sweetness,
Be it that of martyrdom or that with the sword...



*!


Very inspiring, he is not alone.....
 
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