Raise Your Voice

(Written by my father Rebwar - right - and translated from Kurdish)

Raise your voice now!
Don’t let it quiver in the cold
Oh bright-eyed Galaveje wrapped in rags

Come, sing the anthem of “Comrade Shwan” load and clear
So your shorn little lambs shiver no more in the icy gust

Declare:
In this world,
Mum and dad and their fellow wretches
Have knitted so many woollen jackets with their weary fingers
That neither I, nor any other child will suffer from the cold

Declare:
In this world,
There is so much wool and fleece
That neither my little lambs, nor any other will be shorn to shiver in the cold

Yes:
I’ll sing my anthem
And raise my luminous voice
I’ll console my comrade Shwan
Until I string them up
Those witch-eyed pot-bellied brutes
Who stole my woollen jacket
Who fleeced my little tender lambs
I’ll hang them up, annihilate them