Kayan Our Hearts Are Enveloped

Think as we cross those alleys, all the stone houses that date back to the times rooted in our ancestors, some of their inhabitants were forced out and were monopolized by the Jews who came under Britain’s protection, some entire streets were confiscated, we are not against their living here, but against their expulsion of us and looting our role... Behind every door Wooden is a story, souls exhausted from longing for days gone by, living on the past, their hours are set to the rhythm of memories, they wait for the pulse of life to return to its hands, but they do nothing to achieve it... Faith envelops their hearts, making memories live in all the corners of their homes, and under the lights of their streets, even Among the stones of the roads of their streets, which may contain a flower thirsting for life, desperate to see the light of Jerusalem, before being run over by a military vehicle of the Jews, they believe that this is transient.