Like a Flower

There was a prophet Who had a little daughter He loved her so much That people were blaming him Even if he was in a crowd And she entered, he would stand up And sit her in his own place And kiss her tiny hands In facing the prophet’s courage Swords were devastated And in facing his kindness Hearts were captivated In a storm You are like a mountain In a breeze You are like a flower Muhammad You are like a mountain Muhammad You are… At a time when people were only proud of their sons And girls were buried alive, he told everyone: Fatimah is my soul And the apple of my eye In facing the prophet’s courage Swords were devastated And in facing his kindness Hearts were captivated In a storm You are like a mountain In a breeze You are like a flower Muhammad You are like a mountain Muhammad You are… Like a flower Like a flower Like a flower Like a flower Muhammad Muhammad Muhammad