The clouds

The clouds fly from Israel to Palestine
And the clouds fly from Palestine to Israel
They met above the hills
The winds from the ocean come
Dance with them
The freedom sky dance

They make the rain
Waken the olive trees
To get up and bloom
Waken the grapes
To open their eyes and ripe
Waken an old man
In the west concentration camp
To get out of his nightmare

And waken a stranger
With a passport that says:
Nguyen Quang Thieu
Then slide under the door
A piece of paper
With no word on it.

[Thông tin 1 nguồn tham khảo đã được ẩn]