When the clamouring voices yearn for “freedom,”
When bullets and blasts from bombs seems like the work of an art,
Days when nature inflicts disasters,
Days when the flag of your country doesn’t dance to the rhythm of the wind,
Days when staying is like committing suicide,
My land loosened its grip on my waist,
Waving me goodbye as I fled,
The smile and the tears of finding shelter in another land,
I keep on thinking about home;
Anytime they asked me, “Where are you from?”
Now I am a human to be defined,
I am a refugee
I am human
I have a land and identity.