I want to word my very Love for you
though as a shy child, I start to stammer
a beloved Mother, my sole bijou
as I am of your prime Land enamoured.
A rose breathing the scent of your terra
born and bred knowing no other home soil
how can I bear the burn of your Summer
anger and worry within my chest boil.
I want to paint my very pride in you
with drops of my blood and ivory star
then draw your nature and beauty anew
how would my poetry meet who you are?
To my dear mother, shall I, You compare?
TUNISIA, Your Love, I'll ever bear.