Fatimah in a Storm

You raise your tired hands toward the sky And the dark night lights up as you praise God Your tears rain on your hijab, and this cold air Is filled with the fragrance of Jasmine flower Come and walk again In our troubled streets and lanes And heal the scars of our city With your scent of Heaven O Fatimah Fatimah O Fatimah Fatimah Tonight someone hungry and poor knocks at your door And you give him your necklace and the only food in your home You talk to God until the rising of the sun And you forget yourself while praying for everyone Come and walk again In our troubled streets and lanes And heal the scars of our city With your scent of Heaven O Fatimah Fatimah O Fatimah Fatimah