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Stay Here

Stay here!… The sun that shines in a foreign place, Will never warm you like the sun in your own; The bread has a bitter taste there Where one has no one, not even a brother. Who would find a better mother than one’s own, And your mother is this country; Take a look upon the limestones and the field,  []

Emina

Last night, returning from the warm hamam, I passed by the garden of the old imam, And lo, in the garden, in the shade of a jasmine, There with a pitcher in her hand stood Emina. What beauty! By my Muslim faith I could swear, She wouldn’t be ashamed if she were at the sultan’s! And the way she walks  []