A silver leaf against the sun
A thousand years, its life had run
The patient bark, a story kept
In sun-baked earth, its roots had slept
It watched the children learn to stand
A gentle giant in the land.

The wind would whisper through its grace
A testament to time and place
It knew the hands that tilled the ground
A quiet, faithful, steady sound
Each twist of wood, a name it held
A living book, the tales it spelled.

But shadows fell, a silence grew
They came to make the world anew
To cut the branch and sever deep
The promises the soil would keep
Oh, gentle tree, they lay you low
To stop the seeds of truth from growing.

A sudden space against the sky
Where olive branches used to sigh
They thought the memory would fade
With every cut the sharp steel made
To hide the name upon the stone
And claim the land was theirs alone.

But shadows fell, a silence grew
They came to make the world anew
To cut the branch and sever deep
The promises the soil would keep
Oh, gentle tree, they lay you low
To stop the seeds of truth from growing.

قد تتساقط الأوراق، وقد ينكسر الجذع.
لكن ليس التاريخ الذي يحاولون نسجه.
ففي الأرض، تبقى الجذور.
ليشربوا الشمس، ليشعروا بالمطر.
تنتظر قصة تحت التراب.
ثقة هادئة أبدية.
ثقة هادئة أبدية.
ثقة هادئة أبدية.

The leaves may fall, the trunk may break
But not the history they try to take
For in the earth, the roots remain
To drink the sun, to feel the rain
A story waits beneath the dust
A quiet, everlasting trust.

A story waits beneath the dust.
A silver leaf, we hold for us.
The olive tree...