As the calamitous storm passes
and the tyrannical thunder recedes,
–
As the merciful rain dispels the wildfire
and a gentle breeze clears the ashes of destruction,
–
As the benevolent sun’s rays shine strong
and the morning birds chirp once more,
–
Among the green blades of grass,
embedded in the rich black soil,
A white Syrian jasmine has finally awoken.
–
Remembering the Spring of fourteen years past,
she calls out to her brothers and sisters.
–
They gradually awaken, one by one,
and with a liveliness unlike any other,
a new Spring is born.
–
And underneath the green olive tree,
blossoming ever so subtly,
a red poppy peeks above the ground.