في فراشة بيضاء بتجي كل يوم على شباكي بتفرش جوانحها و بتنطرني انطق اسمه
بتنطرني على وهلة لتحمل اسمه عن شفافي بجوانحها الهزيلة
و جوانحها بتثقل و بتروح لعند الشمس و بتحرق اسمه لتقدر ترجع على ملجأها
و ثاني يوم بترجع ع شباكي مفكرة إنو شي نهار اسمه رح يصير خفّ الريشة و رح تقدر تاخدو معها و ما بقى ترجع لعندي



There's a white butterfly that comes every day at my window, unfolds her wings and waits for me to say his name
It waits for me impatiently to grab his name off my lips on her little wings
And her wings grow heavy thus she goes to the sun and burns his name for her to be able to fly back home
And the next day she comes back at my window, thinking that one day, his name will be light enough for her to be able to carry it on her wings and never have to come back to me



لين اا -
- LynnAA