Alghzwat Alkasht Mhkrt -

For every sword lifted against a neighbor, A harvest of silence grows— And the land remembers longer than any chief. If you can provide the original or clarify the meaning of each word, I’d be happy to refine this into a more accurate translation or original composition.

The raids that came like summer winds, Not bearing rain but iron and dust— They scraped the wells dry, They plowed the graves open. alghzwat alkasht mhkrt

Now the dunes whisper over old bones: Do not call victory the scattering of tents. Do not name glory the burning of fields. For every sword lifted against a neighbor, A

What they gathered was not gold, But a muḥkarah —a slow knot of regret, Tightening in the throat of every tribe. alghzwat alkasht mhkrt