In the garden of the Mother, under the golden Light,
A white chapel watches the hill so bright.
Walk with me through the olive grove ,
Where the ancient History is carved in stone.
The Sunday table is ready, the family is near,
With warm bread and an embrace that stays here.
In our chest beats the heart of a lion, brave and free,
The Soul of our people, for the whole world to see.
From the quiet harbor , the ships sail away,
But Memory keeps us together, every single day.
Across the shimmering sea, under the blue sky,
Freedom is the song that will never die.
photo Peggychoucair, https://pixabay.com
