"I dream of the day I would see the flowers bloom in Palestine", says an ally.
"I dream of the day I would see the flowers again",
cries an old lady from Palestine
"I dream of the day I would see Palestine",
prays a refugee in a faraway country
"I dream of the day when I would not dream and pray that there would be another day for Palestine",
screams a little child in Palestine


And the sun is the witness
The sun knows it all,
it has watched, witnessed and waited...


I dream of the day I would see the flowers bloom in Palestine!
From the bullets bored through little children's ribs,
to the bloodied blouses hanging in the clothesline.

I dream of the day I would see flowers again!
From the people's laughters and childish ease,
to the tears and pain I can't even begin to imagine.

I dream of the day I would see Palestine!
From the river, in the desert, in the colorful markets,
to the sea, in the beach, taking our sweet sweet time.

I dream of the day when I would not dream and pray that there would be another day for Palestine!
Because there would only be days of freedom!
Only for the children, for Gaza, mothers, fathers, doctors, soldiers, every Palestinian!
Days that are theirs!
Days and endless days are all there is!
And it is all theirs!


And the sun is the judge and the jury
The sun grants it,
the justice for every injury, freedom for every perjury...