Not far from the agility of men,
Whence the echoes of your cry is heard;
And when thy old wound is cut again,
We feel the pain from our heart.
Forced tribute that we were made to pay,
From our sweat earned night and day,
To those like Lernaean Hydra with as many heads;
Yet some part of us still trust your loyalty to motherland.
You brought tears to numerous civile,
Some left molested and some remain wounded;
Yet your sisters seek for your help,
That someday you’ll return and protect them.
The same blood we share in our veins,
The same story we share to our children;
For we still see an ounce of hope for freedom,
That the precious lives of martyr don’t go in vain.
I long to see the triumph like my father did,
With as best as I could contribute though less;
But not the day when you’ll have to leave,
As some part of us cannot forever bear.
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