The Cherished Timaa

The years have worn on for many days.

O time, you have broken my trust.

I love Kuwait with a deep love,

But not the love of adoption.

It is Al-Jahra, my beloved Ta’ima.

Console her, and ask about her and about me.

I am deeply enamored and devoted to her,

And I am passionately attached to her.

I have loved her secretly and openly,

And in her, I have cherished many hopes.

We walked barefoot through her neighborhoods,

I am of her, and she is of me.

As long as I live, I belong to her.

I love the soil of my land; I do not waver.

I am faithful to my pledge,

For I will never leave her, because

We have gardens that tower and grow tall,

As if I had never seen them before.

The sounds of water wheels and pumps,

Echo in my ears at dawn.

O Al-Jahra, where are my companions from my youth?

Where are my beloved friends, my peers?

Our ruins have been destroyed and vanished,

Cast aside by time like an arrow of fate.

We lived there for a long life,

And wandered there with measured steps.

Her fragrant trees sway,

With birds singing on their branches.