A man from Cairo (to Motaz)

Thin and tough
sweet but silver
loud and salt
water then clouds
like a wind that blows on time
A clown but a prince
a loser that may win
a winner to receive nothing
Like a sudden brise
he brings the presence
it is all what life calls to enjoy
A man from Cairo
made of sand and goodness


Um homem do Cairo

Magro e renitente
Doce e prata
Na fala alta, sal
Água nas nuvens
vento que sopra na hora certa
Palhaço, príncipe
O perdedor que ganha
O ganhador que nada recebe
Como uma brisa súbita
ele traz a presença
tudo o que a vida desfruta
Um homem do Cairo
feito de areia e bondade

Lady Jerusalem (to Hanin)

Each step, a rifle
Each pray, a curse
She walks through old fears
crossing holy traditions and memories
She sneaks around to save
leftovers of happiness
While they throw her bad words
in Latin, in Hebrew,
in Arabic, in silence
She passes another barrier
another check-point
She deals with that everyday:
She's the lady Jerusalem