The Opera Qateeni
Based on the epic poem Qateeni Gabbara
By William Daniel
Composer: Michel Bosc

Libretto preparation by: Tony Khoshaba
Translation by: William Warda
Transliteration by: Avrahim Giliana
Diction By: Yosip Bet Yosip

Scene 1 – 1

Story Teller (Giliana):

Ptee-khi va soop-ra rvee-kha, A vast table was spread,
Go qass-ra d’Too-ma, In Tooma’s castle.
Jim-yi-va aal-ma ra-ba, Where a large crowd had gathered,
Min mdee-ta v’zoo-ma. From the resort and the town.
Khvar-diq-ni tee-vi shtee-qi, The white bearded sat silent
Bttee-ni btakh-man-ta. Filled with thoughts.
Gab-ba-ri ree-shay kee-pi, The braves had their head bent
B’ah-val khish-shan-ta. In distraught.
mood mar-ra cool-la-na-ya, What contagious disease
Biy-ye tpee-qi va. Did they all have?
Mood khish-sha va knoosh-ya-ya, What common sorrow,
D’lgikh-ka khnee-qa va. Chocked off their laugh?
Ah soop-ra msham-ha v’diy-ya, This famous table
Go aat-ra-va-ti. Known in several lands,
Min-ni pal-ttee va va-di, Where countless brave deeds
D’gab-ba-roo-ya-ti. Had begun.
Ta-lim-ta d’kham-ra smoo-qa, The jar of the red wine
B’av-ra va btar-ra. Would enter through the door
Min lee-na l’soop-ra w’lba-ra, From the barrel and beyond
D’la qya-ta l’ar-ra. It would not touch the floor
Sho-ra va mee-da l’ee-da, It would bounce from hand to hand
Mat-to sa-poo-qi, Pouring its contents
Har-hoo-ri gikh-ka khdee-ta, Giggling, laughing, having
Poom-mo man-shoo-qi. Pleasure in being kissed on the lips.
Id-yoom oop ay khash-shan-ta, Today she too was sad,
L’kis Ma-lik tiv-ta, Sitting by Malik
Le va bij-va-ja msho-po, Not moving at all
Makh qa-ttoo siv-ta. Like an elderly cat.
Mood mkhoo-ta va sa-van-ta, What awful tragedy
D’mookh-riv-la l’kai-pay, Had destroyed their fun?
Mood it-ya sa-tta-na-ya, What devilish creature
Moos-mee-li l’gikh-cay? Had silenced their laugh?
Qa-moo-dee le toon shim-yi, Why! Haven’t you heard
Boot khar-vi kha-ti, Of the new destruction
D’moom-ttee-la Shid-da mid-ri, The monster inflicted
L’na-shi v’lkhai-va-ti. On the people and the beasts?
Akh d’in noo-ra d’gee-han-ni, As if the hell fires
L’sad-ro bis-ta-ra, Were tearing up her chest
Chma-ya ley va bich-ma-ya, Could not be extinguished
Bsha-qee-ta v’na-ra. By rivers and creeks.

L’sa-vo la msee-loon mat-ree, Not even the seas
oop la ya-ma-ti. Could quench her thirst.
Dim-mi va ay bib-ba-ya, Blood was what she craved for
Av d’ya-li v’bna-ti. Of young men and maidens.

B’khai-la d’khir-sho la mtakh-mi, By her boundless magic power
Ptil-la goor-vis-la. She grew big and wide.
It-ya la khzee-li rakh-mi, No creature felt her mercy
Cad l’madb-kho blis-la. All on her altar died.
Gab-bä-ri dvee-khi d’ga-na, How many more young braves
Hal ee-man aa-zee, Should leave
Sho-qee lya-lay w’lbakh-ta-tay, Abandoning their wives and kids
Go bikh-ya v’ta-zee. In tears and in grief.

Joon-ja-ra d’ khiy-yal d’Too-ma, The agony of Tuma’s plight
Kyoo-la lit-va-loon, Had no end
Sha-dir mid-ri gab-ba-ri, If more young men he sent
Qo-ma d’mit-va-loon. They too might die.

Mo-ta har bit aa-tee va, Death will arrive
Ha-da yan had-kha. One way or another.
Qttee-li Too-ma bree-ya-nu. In his mind Tuma decided
L’ma-roo-mu qat-kha, To raise the cup.
Mlee-li ca-sa min kham-ra, He filled the cup with wine,
W’lgab-ba-ri khir-ri, And stared at the mighty
L’ai chyat-ta spir-ta diy-yi, His awaited declamation
Ban khab-ri zmir-ri: He conveyed with this song:

Malik Tooma’s invitation:

Ma-nee li av gab-ba-ra, Who is the mightiest man
Av gaw-ra d’gaw-ra d’da-ra, The mightiest of this time?
D’ma-khi m’dish-ta v’bar-riy-ya, Who will cross the plains and deserts
M’al room-ta m’go gal-liy-ya. The valleys and the highlands.

Ä-vir min al ttoo-ra-ni, Will pass over the mountains
Min doo-ka-ni sa-va-ni. And all the awful places.
M’akh gee-ra mtee-kha sa-tti, Soar like an arrow in flight
L’gan-na-ti d’Shid-da ma-tti. To reach the monster’s orchards.

L’mal-ka-ni boosh sham-mee-ni, The most fertile farmlands
L’kar-ma-ni an boosh qee-ni. And the greenest of the fields.
Shid-da ttlee-ta ma-tchikh-la, Find the monster as it sleeps
W’qish-ti al-lo pa-tikh-la. Beat her till death

Shlad-do b’oom-qi da-ree-la, Dump her body in the deeps
Bgee-han-na mai-ca d’tee-la. Into the hell from where she emerged,
Pa-tikh l’ca-va-ti d’miy-ya, Open up the water dams
Makh-khi l’at-ra bar-riy-ya. Give new life to dying lands.

Kha-zin-ni Av gab-ba-ra, Can I see this mighty man
Av gaw-ra d’gaw-ra d’da-ra. The greatest man of our age
D’qazh-dir l’av khoob-ba sha-ti, Who will dare to drink this toast
D’zil-li qo-ma d’la aa-ti.” That he may leave but not return?”

Story Teller (Giliana):

Cad hish bra-qa-lid zmoo-ri, The echoes of his song
Le va shil-yi mzan-goo-ri, Had not yet died out
Kin-sha shpikh-li go dar-ta, When a crowd spilled into courtyard
Biz-ma-ra l’aa-ha zmar-ta: Singing this other song.

Scene 1 – 2

Singers (Choir):

“Kha khzee-moon l’aa-too-ra-ya, Behold the Assyrian,
Min ttoo-ra-ni bis-la-ya, Coming down from the highland
Cool kha roov-shi kha dra-ya, He is tall his shoulders wide
ar-ra khoo-ti bitt-ba-ya, The earth sinks beneath his stride
Qa-ttee-ni qatt-tti too-ri. Qateeni the mountain leaper

Sad-ri shoo-sha d’a-vee-ni, His chest is strong as stone
Sha-tee-li kham-ra b’lee-ni, He drinks wine by barrels
It kha b’ga-va d’ash-shee-ni, Is there one among the braves
D’pa-lish am-ma d’Qat-tee-ni? Who will fight with Qateeni?
Qat-tee-ni qatt-tti ttoo-ri. Qateeni the mountain leaper.

In it gaw-ra zar-ba-na, If there is a mighty man
D’aa-siq l’ttoo-ra sa-va-na, Who can ascend the frightful peak
Ma-khi l’zar-ra d’sa-tta-na; Defeat the devilish creature
Aa-ha li av mas-ya-na. This is the only one,
Qat-tee-ni qatt-tti ttoo-ri. Qateeni the mountain leaper.”

Story Teller (Giliana):

W’ha Qat-tee-ni bee-va-ra. As Qateeni enters
W’al-ma qav-voo-khi. The crowd gasps
W’qam d’av qo-ma gab-ba-ra, Before his mighty body
Tar-ra gam-boo-khi. The door collapses

Qateeni:

“B’shla-ma ow-rin yan b’pla-sha, Should I enter for fight or for peace,
Ya Kha-lee Too-ma? My uncle Tuma?
Bay-yin d’par-qakh l’doo-ra-sha, I want this quarrel to cease
Har id-yoom yoo-ma.” On this very day”.

Malik Tooma:

“b’shai-na tee-lookh khwar-zay-yi, Welcome my nephew
Bshai-na v’bash-la-ma. In peace and tranquility
B’ttaw-ta av ba-bee da-yee, Come forward
Ta-lookh la-qa-ma.” With blessing my beloved.

Qateeni:

“M’qam d’qab-lit-lee b’dra-na-nookh, Before I am welcomed
Day-ya-na d’am-mi. Oh judge of the people
Bay-yin d’sham-min b’ri-ya-nookh, Declare verdict in the case
Boot kha-tookh ttam-mi.” of your sister’s disgrace.

Malik Tooma:

“Ta toov shmee-li boo-qa-ra, Come sit, and hear the question
D’joom-man-li id-yoo. That brought us together today
Bkhar-ta b’dar-shakh l’ee-qa-ra, Later the virtues
Dkha-tee Koo-rik-mu.” Of my sister Kurikmu we will discuss.

Qateeni:

“He-miz-ma-ni sha-pee-ri, Beautiful words
Le na mal-ya-ni, Are not enough
D’bas-mee l’lib-va-ti tvee-ri, To mend the shattered hearts
W’makh-khee l’mo-ta-ni. Or to resurrect the dead.

Lak-ka d’shim-ma vd’ee-qa-ra, Insults to honor and name
D’nkhip-ta kee may-yi, Which bring forth shame
Akh-chee c’aa-ti liq-qa-ra, Can only be cleansed
Bi-iad ttee-ma d’khay-yi. By the payment of life.

Yan saq-ma-na yan sqee-ma, The accuser or the accused,
Cool d’ma-ri gna-ha, Whoever is at fault
B’ee-dee bit pa-yish tee-ma, Shall be punished by my hand
Ya-min b’Al-la-ha.” I swear to God.”

Malik Tooma:

“Boot shim-ma dikh-ya d’kha-tee, About the innocence of my sister
L’bah-ra vin plee-tta, I have been enlightened
Khir-ba moop-rim-la qa-tee, After being misled by
Kha niq-va lit-ta.” A cursed woman.”

Story Teller (Giliana):

It-va bil am-ma tee-vi, Sitting among the nobles
Kha Niq-va nookh-rai-ta, Was a stranger
Da-yim min lib-bo khree-va, From her wicked heart
Bish-ta biss-la-ya. Ceaselessly dripping evil

Stranger:

“Pin-da-na vit makh ta-la,” “You are tricky as a fox.
D’bshitt-ri bay-yit liq-tta-la, With flattery you want to kill
Lboo-cha ya-too-ma. The bastard orphan.
Yan k’ho-yad lib-bookh rgid-li, Or may be your heart trembled
Mpitt-kha d’pit-yoo-nu, Because of his broad shoulders
D’bee-lookh biad khab-rid shid-li, Therefore with false words of praise
Shai-pit lkhizh-boo-nu. His claims you hope to erase.
Yoor-khad qo-ma vd’sha-qa-ni, Length of body and limbs
Ap in nee-shan-qa, Though symbols of youth
Bno-shei le na mal-ya-ni, Are not solely enough
D’ba-ni kha jvan-qa.” To make a man.”

Malik Tooma:

“Tchoom l’av pům-makh shikh-ta-na, “Shut your filthy mouth
Khriv-ta d’bar-riy-ya, The depraved of the desert
Da-ya la dee-lee aa-na, I never found out
Mai-ca vat tee-ta.” Where you came from.”

Stranger:

Aa-na har ai nish-sha van, ”I am the very woman
D’yoo-vil-to van rä-ei, Who gave you my advice
W’lai d’am-mookh big-ra-sha van, For putting up with you
Doo vit bip-ra-yee.” You are paying me thus.”

Malik Tooma:

“Ra-yakh akh-lee min ree-shakh, To hell with you
Tlooq min qam pa-tee, And your advice
Yan moor moo-dee-va nee-shakh, Tell me of your aim
Go qis-sat d’kha-tee. In my sister’s case.
In priq-lan m’ah Ga-han-na, If we ever survive the hell
D’bree-shan bis-la-ya, Looming over our head,
Dee-va-nakh bid ow-din-na, be warned stranger,
Dee ya nookh-rei-ta.” I will decide your fate

Qateeni:

“Dee-va-nookh Tooma Kha-lee, Don’t let your judgment err
Khil-tti la hass-la, My uncle Tuma.
Min ba-ba l’broo-na k’sa-lee, From father to the son
Cool zid-qi d’as-la. All rights are inherited.
Khsheekh-ta la ai lpoor-aa-na, She deserves to earn her pay
D’pil-kha-na vee-da, For what she has done
W’bid qab-la la ah da-na. And shall receive it right away
W’har b’aa-ha ee-da. By this very hand.”

Story Teller (Giliana):

W’lti-vil-ta d’sho-ta-poo-ta, The leach of the society,
L’par-san-ta d’mar-ra.” And the spreader of disease,
Qa-ttee-ni har bkha mkhoo-ta, Qateeni with one blow
Bli-sa-li l’ar-ra. Smashed her on the floor.
Ttbee-la oop ah qa-vam-ta, All this event sank
Go ya-ma d’da-na. In the ocean of time
Akh-chee pish-la hoom-zim-ta, But it is only remembered
B’lott-ta lsa-tta-na.” When the devil is cursed.

Story Teller (Giliana):

Ca-sa aa-tee-qa d’da-va, The old cup of gold
Ma-lik kha-sha-na, The sad Malik,
Mlee-li min kham-ra sa-va, Filled with old wine
Khil-ya makh sha-na. Sweet and fine.
Ca-sa go ee-di qim-li, Cup in hand he stood
W’lgab-ba-ri khir-ri, Staring at the nobles.
Qa-li bqas-ra goor-gim-li, His voice thundered in the castle
B’ay zmar-ta d’zmir-ri: As he shared this song:

Scene 1 – 3

Malik Tuma’s Song:

“Ma-nee li av gab-ba-ra, Who is the mightiest man
D’la lip-li d’da-yir l’ba-ra. The man who will never retreat
Qad-kha d’shtee-lee sha-tee-li. Who will drink a cup with me
Har b’kha bee-na mas-pee-li. Here now for all to see
Shva-ra d’shvir-ree sha-vir-ri, Who will take the stride that I took
Poog-da-nee la ta-vir-ri. Whatever I command he will do
Ma-khi min at-ra siy-ya, He will travel from dry land
D’la miy-ya d’la mar-riy-ya. Dry of water and pastures
Aa-zil l’ttoo-ra sa-va-na, Cross the frightful mountain
Ree-shi qree-ma go ‘na-na. His head wrapped in gloom
Shid-da ttlee-taa ma-chikh-la, Find the monster as she sleeps
Qish-ti al-lo ma-tikh-la. with his arrows bring about her death
cham-chim-la l’oom-qi shlad-do, Dump her body in the deeps
Ta-likh loon bar-ro w’sad-do. Wreck its dams and levies
Shap-khee go at-ra miy-ya, Let once more the water flow
Khay-yi mid-ri bar-riy-ya. Revive again the desert below
Ga-bi min car-mo may-yi, Pick from its garden and bring
Kha khpa-qa gil-la d’khay-yi. An armful of the plant of life
Av d’pa-tikh l’ay-na smee-ta, That restores a blindman’s sight
B’rei-khi ra-ish oop mee-ta. It’s smell revives those who died.
Ma-nee l’av khoob-ba bsha-ti, Who will drink to the love
Zil-li qav-ma d’la aa-ti. That he may leave but not return to?
Ma-nee-li av gab-ba-ra, Who is the brave man
Av gav-ra d’gav-ri d’da-ra?” The bravest one of this time?

Story Teller:

Ai-ga Qa-ttee-ni gav-ra, Then Qateeni the great
Qav-moo makh-khoo-yi sav-ra. Whose presence inspired hope
Hoom-zim-li, b’ee-di ca-sa, Held up his cup and spoke
Shish-li bei-ta mshoo-ta-sa. And shook foundation of the house
Amir: and said

Qateeni’s Song:

“Ma-lik ha aa-na,
am-mookh lish-ta-yoo ma-na, I will drink the cup with you
Bsho-rin-ni shva-ra d’shvir-rookh, Will take the stride you took
Btam-mim-min min-dee d’mir-rookh. Will accomplish what you say.
La dish-ya-ti d’la miy-ya, Neither the lands without water
La av noo-ra d’bar-riy-ya. Nor the fires of the desert
La ttoo-ra-ni sa-va-ni, Not the frightful mountains
La ee-too-ta d’sa-tta-ni, Not the existence of devils
W’la as-qoo-ta go shvee-la, Or the burden of the task
Roo-khee le mak-chikh-khee-la. Will ever tire my soul.
B’as-qin b’ttoo-ra d’makh-va-ti, I will ascend the mount of affliction
Oop in khree-za b’skin-ya-ti. Even if studded with blades
M’qam sai-pee broo-na d’bir-qa, From my sword, the breed of lightning,
Shid-da le mas-ya ar-qa. The monster cannot escape.
Bit rap-pin b’oom-qi shlad-do, I will dump her corpse in well
Bit tal-khin bar-ro w’sad-do. Will wreck her dams and spells
Mlee-moon-li ca-see spee-qa, Fill up my empty cup
M’av kham-ra boosh aa-tee-qa. With the oldest wine
Sha-tin l’av khoob-ba goo-ra, Which I’ll drink to the greatest love
D’qa-mi ra-gid oop ttoo-ra. That shakes even the mountains.
Ee-na kha-lee moor ma-lookh? But my uncle tell me what is wrong
Qa-moo ay-nookh lkee-za-lookh? Why did you wink your eye?
Ttoov-va d’min qam d’aa-zin-va, I wish I knew the secrets of your heart
L’ttish-va d’lib-bookh kha-zin-va. Before I depart.

Scene 1-4

Qateeni:

Gaw-ri cash-shee-ri w’zree-zi, The ever-ready heroic braves
L’kha-doo-ri d’soop-ra khree-zi, Sitting around this table
Ca-so-khoon vei-na bree-zi, Your cups are pretty dry
Ca-so-khoon dsee-ma v’da-va. Your cups of silver and gold.
Qa-mu qa-lo-khoon shtee-qa? Why are your voices hushed?
Qa-mu ran-go-khoon ree-qa? Why do you all look pale?
Qa-mu ca-so-khoon spee-qa? Why do you all look pale?
Hish le-li tee-man khra-va. We’ve not yet been crushed.
Sha-takh l’av khoob-ba goo-ra, Let’s drink to the greatest love
Khai-la-na mcool is-soo-ra, Stronger than all bonds
D’nttee-ran-li l’aa-ha do-ra, Which has saved us to this day
Av khoob-ba d’ba-ba sa-va.” The love of our ancestors.

Qateeni Continues:

“M’qam d’aa-zin lit-pa-qa b’ai Shid-da te-man-ta, Before I depart to confront the terminator shidda
Kha-loo-vee shmee sa-pin biy-yookh khda he-man-ta. My uncle listen to you I entrust a request
Ha yim-mee ar-mil-ta go be-ta nookh-ra-ya, My widowed mother in another land
Bikh-kha-ya khoot shim-ma av d’yim-ma d’kha ra-ya, Lives as the mother of a herder
Go khish-sha w’ool-sa-na va-re-nä yoo-ma-no, and in sorrow are passing her days
Min il-ta d’kha boo-sa d’khak-ma min san-ya-no. Because of a malicious scheme of her foes
Ttla gav-ri zar-ba-ni bit shad-rit may-yee-la, You will send three mighty braves to bring her back
Min gil-li rei-kha-ni gad-lit-la kha klee-la. Fashion her a crown from scented flowers
Boot shim-mo av dikh-ya w’dee-qa-ro d’la moo-ma, About her pure name and he spotless honor
Pshee-qa-eet qa al-ma bit ga-lit O Too-ma! You will tell all o, tuma
Qa shav-va yoo-ma-ni b’ya-vookh vin va-da, You have seven days to do this
W’in b’mit-kha d’ah zow-na la too-mim-lookh l’wa-da, But if you fail to do it in seven days
Ai-ga kha-lee kha-lee khash-vin ga-nookh mee-ta, Then my uncle consider yourself dead
Mqam khim-tee le khal-sit b’ga-va d’aa-ha bree-ta.” You will have no place to hide in this world.

Giliana:

Ma-tta-la d’Qa-ttee-ni priz-la va kha qitt-aa, Qatteeni’s shield made from one metal sheet
B’maj-goon-ya-ti d’nkha-sha maz-ri-cha-na lqee-tta. Was studded with many colorful beads
Kham-sha jvan-qi zakh-mi boosh zakh-mi d’go at-ra, Five strong men, the grandest of all
La msee-loon l’maj-voo-jo min ar-ra oop nit-ra. Could not lift it a bit from the ground
Dviq-li bi sim-ma-li w’al riv-shi tun-tir-ri, He threw it on his shoulder by left hand
Khaz-ya-ni b’oo-ja-ba cool kha b’shva-voo khir-ri. On-lookers were truly amazed then

Singers (Choir):

Had-kha khai-la d’dra-na La khzee-lan hal id-yoom Till now this kind of strength we haven’t had,
Khee l’aa-lam Qa-ttee-ni gaw-ra vit min shra-ra, Live for ever Qateeni you are mighty
L’aa-nee d’go khish-ca-na at maz-riq-qit ba-ra. Shed light on those in darkness trapped
Ha le la boot diy-yookh d’rshim-te-la b’ctiv-ya-tan, Isn’t you about whom our books have foretold?
D’bid aa-ti bid pa-si l’yal-loo-dan l’yal-ta-tan? That shall come to free the young and the old?

Giliana: (explaining the Widow and Qateeni encounter)

M’gee-ba-ni khoor-dee-loon Qa-ttee-ni Gab-ba-ra, From all sides people gathered around Qatteeni the brave
Cad l’sai-pu l’ma-tta-lu wl’jvan-qoo-tu bikh-qa-ra. Praised his shield, his youth, and his sword
Ha khak-ma kha-poo-ttu la qa-ma aal nee-shi, Some encouraged him to go forth
Cad khee-ni bee-ma-ru d’la a-zil kha b’no-shi. Others warned him not to go alone
Khda bakh-ta ta-ma va d’ar-mil-ta v’yim-ma va, There was a woman , a widow and mother
Boot tla-qa d’tray bnoo-no lib-bo doom-dim-mi va. Her hearth aching for her two sons
Moo-khab-no tee-la boot da gav-ra sha-ree-ra, She felt pity for the faithful young man
Joo-rib-la l’mak-loo-yu b’kha qa-la ma-ree-ra. And tried to stop him with a sad voice
Cad brik-ta qam aq-lu w’go pa-tu bikh-ya-ra, As she knelt in front of him and looked at his face
Bno-nei-ta v’par-pal-ta had-kha va bee-ma-ra: She begged him and implored and she spoke:

Widow: (trying to stop Qateeni from going)

“Door min oor-khookh Qa-ttee-ni, goo-ra-li khai-la d’dizh-min, Go back Qatteeni Great is the enemy’s might
Khoosh o-ree shin-ni khee-ni, bzar-ba boosh goo-ra chak-bin. Let some years go by Prepare for a hard fight
al pa-tookh ay d’kha ya-la, hish lit mab-yoo-ni shkhoom-ta, On your face of a boy There is not yet sign of beard
Khoos-ra-na le-ti l’kya-la, d’tal-qa bnoov-vo ah qoom-ta. It would be a great loss If this young stature disappear
Lit khizh-boo-na id-yoo-ma, kma gab-ba-ri kma zakh-mi, Up to now we have lost count Of many mighty and brave
Me-loon aal madb-kha koo-ma, madb-kha d’Shid-da d’la rakh-mi.” that the black altar of Sheeda Became their grave

Qateeni:

“Hitch la zad-yat yim-mee, Don’t fear my mother
At la gash-qat l’shin-nee, Don’t judge me by my youth
k’ho-ya d’la-vin msham-ha gab-ba-ra, I may not be a famous hero
Ee-na la qoov-vim-la, But has not yet happened
D’ga-va d’had-kha mam-la, in such situation
Qa-ttee-ni m’oor-khoo da-yir l’ba-ra. that Qatteeni ever From his goal retreats
Shmee l’aa-ha mo-mee-ta, Listen to this oath
B’dkha-ra d’ba-bee mee-ta, By the memories of my deceased father
Mttee-li yoom kha-ra-ya d’brat shee-da. This is the last day of the monster’s daughter
Hish yoo-man la gin-ya, Before the day’s end
Hish sa-ra la tin-ya, Before the moon returns
Mai-ta bid mai-ta ay b’ah ee-da.” By these hands she shall die

Widow:

Ttoov-van-ta la ay yim-ma, w’khash-kha pai-sha moo-rim-ta, Blessed is your mother, deserves to be praised
D’had-kha zar-ri maq-qim-ma, d’ha-vee poor-qa-na l’oom-ta.
That such a son she has raised, Who will bring salvation to a nation
Lib-va-tan bttee-ni b’sloo-ta, am-mookh da-yim bit ha-vee, Our hearts full of prayers, Will always be with you
Bitt-la-ba b’nas-see-khoo-ta, d’cool-lay oor-kha-tookh sha-vee. We ask that your road be smooth, You indeed are the one
At ee-vit sha-ree-ra-eet, l’av d’spir-ran mdo-ri vee-ri, For whom we have waited, since times by gone
D’la diy-yookh poor-qa-na lit, l’a-nee d’go bet as-see-ri.” Without you there is no freedom , For those in bondage held

Qateeni:

“B’ah kya-na sha-ree-ra, With this honest soul
B’ah bah-ra d’na-hee-ra, With this shining sun
Bya-vakh-vin qo-la qad-dee-sha, I give you my holy oath
D’mqam A-la-ha d’lei-li, That before the god of nightfall
Ma-shik-noo sa-lee-li, The tent of darkness brings down
Dizh-min bid pa-yish d’la ree-sha. The enemy will lose her head
Zo-da le qav-vim-ma, It will not take long
D’Shid-da sar-pa dim-ma, When Shidda will be soaked in blood
Dim-mee-ta mshee-la m’aal sa-sa-nakh. Wipe away the tears from your face
Hish yoo-man la gin-ya, Our day is not yet done
Hish sa-ra la tin-ya, Before the rising of the moon
Bkhap-qat-loon bnoo-nakh go dra-na-nakh.” You shall embrace your two sons
Giliana:

Ma-la-kha d’ttai-boo-ta bgool-pa-nu zar-ba-ni, The angel of Goodness, on her mighty wings
Moom-ttee-li l’ai zmar-ta hal qas-ra d’sa-tta-ni, Delivered his song to the satan’s den
W’zoon-gir-ra go lib-ba d’as-see-ri d’la gna-ha, In the heart of the enslaved it kindled hope
W’mood-dir-ri joov-va-bay iz-gad-da d’A-la-ha. The God’s messenger brought back what they spoke
Had-kha zmar-ta d’aa-ni d’nee-ra d’dizh-min ttee-na The Song of the slaves toiling under yoke.
Zoon-gir-ra sip-ya-eet l’nat-ya-tid Qa-ttee-ni. Rang clearly in Qatteeni’s ears:

Shidda Prisoners’ song:

“akh nee-ra ya-qoo-ra, lit tya-ma bjoon-ja-ra! Alas the heavy yoke, no end to the torture in sight.
L’an khay-yan go mra-ri, le za-riq kha bah-ra? On our bitter life shouldn’t shine some light?
ai-ka li av d’ga-rag aa-tee-va l’pa-roo-qan? Where is the one to free us shall come?
Qatt-ttee-va l’is-soo-ri min ee-dan min sha-qan? To cut the shackles from our legs and arm.
Ya zakh-ma av spee-ra b’dra-na-nookh zar-ba-ni, O brave who was expected, with your arms so strong
Ta toom-li ka-poo-ra man-pil-li shool-tta-ni.” Destroy this tyrant put an end to this wrong

Widows last song:

“Shmee-lookh l’a-ha o-li-ta, ya Qa-ttee-ni dvikh ga-na, Did you hear their cries, o noble Qatteeni?
B’gool-pid po-kha moo-yee-ta? Bis-pa-ri na lpoor-qa-na. Delivered on the wings of the wind? They all yearn to be free .
Kool ga-ha d’sham-makh l’an-ni ta-nakh-ya-ti d’moo-ghib-ban, Whenever we hear the lament of our beloveds .
Noo-ra zaa-lim d’gee-han-ni k’ha-vi ma-qoo-du lib-ban. The merciless flames of hell set our heart afire
Il-lookh ee-na biq-ra-ya bkha qav-vakh-ta knoosh-yai-ta, All together they cry out for help
Maam-ttee qa-te poo-sa-ya, la-vid hee-viy-ye mai-ta.” Liberate them before their hope expire

Qatteeni Last song before his departure to fight Shidda:

Jvan-qan oop kha-ma-tan, Our sons and daughters
Chlij-te-la m’ee-da-tan, she has snatched from our arms
Kha-yi aal kin-pa d’ttoo-ra qvee-ri, Has buried them alive on the highest peak
Sham-mee-ram khaz-ya-va, If Shamiram this could see
Ma-ree-ra b’yal-ya-va, She would bitterly weep
Qa ya-lo b’mool-ca-no as-see-ri, Her children in their homeland enslaved
Khim-ta b’ga-va d’sad-ree, The fury in their chest
Noo-ra dree-la b’pagh-ree, sets them aflame
Ma-qoo-dee makh kha la-ha kha-ya, burning them in roaring blaze
In l’Shid-da la tai-min, If I don’t destroy the monster
Mat-vin ree-shee nai-min, Then in slumber I shall lay my head
Le vin broon Gil-ga-mish Nin-va-ya. And am not the son of Gilgamesh the Great.