Music for Felarya - Post songs

A boy holds a kite
Over a cornered city.
Over the wall, his silhouette plays
painting ten thousand white doves.
He holds the string with that strength,
of one who has lost almost everything.
He doesn't let go of his kite,
From high up it can be seen
up to his house, the olive tree,
yesterday, and his hopes too.

A man watches the kite.
Raising his eyes to heaven.
The future is nothing but promises,
and home, just a vague memory.
Far from home a man awaits
hands that will save him from silence.
Paper flowers are carried by the air
And beneath the rubble
Shivers the star
that marks his return.

Wandering lights
in a strange land,
shadows of the past.
Awkward, fragile memory,
Legacy of ours,
Look at me, I exist,
dream and breathe
though slightly worn out
I will take to your house
olive branches in my hands.
Deferred future,
the hard path of the refugee,
Wandering lights
in a strange land,
shadows of the past.

Today paper birds fly over
The beach that was blood and spikes.
The breeze pulls on a thousand kites
like one blowing over a wound.
He holds the kite with that strength
of who has lost almost everything.
He doesn't let go of his kite.
From on high it can be seen
up to his house, the olive tree,
his yesterday and his "I hope",

Oblivion and frontiers mean nothing
to the breeze tangling your hair,
and between the clouds, it pushes the kites,
that paint the sky in colors.
Like a bird that always returns
to the place where dreams are born,
high flies my sweet kite,
And tomorrow they will open,
the heart, the path
that leads to your home.


Wandering lights
in a strange land,
shadows of the past.
Awkward, fragile memory,
Legacy of ours,
Look at me, I exist,
dream and breathe
though slightly worn out
I will take to your house
olive branches in my hands.
Deferred future,
the hard path of the refugee,
Wandering lights
in a strange land,
shadows of the past.