ســـيرك يادنـــــيا..فرقة عكاشة: As Time Goes...

اذا الْعِنَايَة لَاحَظَتْك عُيُوُنُهَا.. نَم فَالْمَخَاوِف كُلُّهُن أَمَان
الْحِصَّيـــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــر

انا المواطن سرحان عبد البصير.. أصبحت اتمرغ بين السين والشن

ولم أذرف دمعة الرندي الا الآن..! ذباب التكتل الوطني - مئة فلس قيمة هذه الارض

الحب في زمن النفط

ذبلت زيزفونة

كان حولها

تلاحقه عيونها في كل مكان

منذ مضي

اختفت الجهات الأربع

فصارت

اما تحدق بالأرض

أو ترنو للسماء

Everything we hear is an opinion not the fact
Everything we see is a perspective not the truth

I am going to the country
Going down that verdant lane
With nothing but a whistle in my hand
And a pocket full of rain
Can you hear that distant sound
Coming down the West Clare railway
Running with the shades of Gloria
The wind is full of memories
That murmur and sigh
Hills lie in the foaming grass of Clare
Below the cold moon's eye
But you should come and see them now
When they are on fire
And running with the shades of Gloria
And the waves roll at the headland
When the tide is rising there
And here there is starlight falling
Down on the hills of Clare
I knew them when I was hungry
And I knew when I was scared
And running with the shades of Gloria