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1. 

   Lihidheb mohsen 2011-1-22

   Carthage, the citizen, Who killed my friends, Who killed my children Who stopped time by shooting at close range Who spilled blood, Who let loose the hurricane, Who moved the pawns Both distant and Machiavellian. Are these the feudal lords of times past, The Bourgeois Capitalists!? Glory and honour to the martyrs of valour, Who fell in the streets before our eyes, Claiming their right to work Against the state’s huge mistakes. These were young people of all ages Of all the cities of old Carthage Of Gafsa, of Metlaoui, of Redeyef, of Bizerte, Of Jendouba, of Kef, of Sidi Bouzid, of Kairouan, Of Wardanine, of Tataouine, of Bengardane, of Medenine, Of Tunis, of Sfax, of Kasserine, Of Zarzis Of Gabes, of the Isle of Djerba, of Théla, of Nabeul And of Guellal. Dozens of victims fell under a rain of bullets From cops belonging to a regime hastily on its way out, To a family caste that is faithless and lawless, Guided by a general who is a bad soldier. This was the revolution of the honour of the peoples, The resistance to the seizure of the couple. This was the squall, fruitful and glorious, The Tsunami against the criminal caste. This is the curse of fakirs who lament. This was the spite of a nation With the young girls and boys, The graduates traveling merchants, Some of whom lit themselves ablaze, To perfume the air and the earth With the wonderful fragrance of life, Thereby all the oppressed components, Releasing their compressed anger, Mowed down one of the biggest dictatorships, A fortress reputed for being a police state, And one of the most bloodthirsty families, Who stole blatantly and in plain view. But the causes of the anger, Sent them flying out of sight From country to country by plane, Pushed away by all the nations, Glory to the martyrs of the Citizen’s Republic. Glory to Tunisia, just and humble.

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