Wʉči ya čʉxth saker, bengi ce ẓ̌ʉ išqay
makon
Gardi be γal nay niyeng, motam et šurišt
arzon
Vitkev per dest cʉmer hasratišt, sakr i
malum
Xokev armoništ ce vitk, yav i be saker purson
Kumri fursat ki yi loy nezdem, ẓ̌ʉmʉrem x̌ʉ
ziyon
Waxtep ʒaq reṣ̌t maẓ̌er yem ti rʉmʉṣ̌ner
jonon
Pieces of the destroyed home are scattered,
waiting to be picked up again
The noise, the wailing and the dust,
nothing, has yet settled down
My wishes and dream trapped under the
rubble, are yet to be known
My disgraced desires are yet to be healed,
looked after
And yet, there is no time, to sit and count
the losses I incurred
Forgetting
you, my life, is going to take me some time
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