images wrapped in the streets, the smell of the blood of this bloodthirsty enemy is from the bombs phosphoricold here , open your warm arms with a kiss and a mother's sweet smile , place me in your arms, tell the rockets. tell the rockets not to fall on the children who just learned to make rockets with paper . a ball in the color of past movies . indeed, after throwing the ball, someone's name was called. although it doesn't matter, except for a star in it this galaxy was left. one by one they burned, the stones of our hatred. with a fiery meteor. they came from the sky. o army of clouds, you will be defeated in the end. this palestine is ours. three is destruction. ah, his heart is singing. the orange of my city. we become his martyrs. life means homeland, our children walk on the cities. in the narrow streets. they run happily. their shoes are like flower leaves. their footprints on the soil are thin and thin, our children are on the dry tree of life, like the fruit of their eyes, but like a clear mirror, the hands of our children smell of corns, from their lips full of songs , but the la
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