Muna's journey
I remember Abbas, the old story teller,
and the Turkish delight he prepared in his cellar.
I remember the cab drivers night after night,
waiting for their clients, they'd put the world to rights.
I remember Sundays at my friend Salma's house,
we had tea and biscuits and watched Mickey Mouse.
I remember the afternoons week after week,
on the streets of the market we played hide and seek.
I remember the smells, the lights and the shadows
and all the different colours I could see from my window.
And my father would always say: "Enjoy yourself every day"
One day my old friend Abbas, was suddenly gone,
we waited for a long time but he never came home.
Every day that passed less cabs waited in the sun:
There were no more tourists at Bab al-Salaam.
We didn't go to school because they shut it down,
our teacher was scared, there was no one around.
We started hearing explosions, I couldn't play outside,
my mother whispered songs while holding me tight.
My dear market was gone, there was a hole instead,
we couldn't find any food, just a bit of bread.
And my father would always say: "Try to keep sadness away"
On a frozen day we boarded a train, leaving our past on platform number 8.
I will never forget the words my father said looking at the horizon:
"Remember these streets that have seen you grow up,
it's people, it's trees, and every single dawn.
Remember this landscape, take my advice:
We're starting a journey to a better life.
Every year winter hides and springtime arrives.
Dear Muna, you will know soon: We all sleep under the same moon"
I remember my dear old grandma, I miss her very much,
she must be taking good care of our home, "In sha' Allah".
and the Turkish delight he prepared in his cellar.
I remember the cab drivers night after night,
waiting for their clients, they'd put the world to rights.
I remember Sundays at my friend Salma's house,
we had tea and biscuits and watched Mickey Mouse.
I remember the afternoons week after week,
on the streets of the market we played hide and seek.
I remember the smells, the lights and the shadows
and all the different colours I could see from my window.
And my father would always say: "Enjoy yourself every day"
One day my old friend Abbas, was suddenly gone,
we waited for a long time but he never came home.
Every day that passed less cabs waited in the sun:
There were no more tourists at Bab al-Salaam.
We didn't go to school because they shut it down,
our teacher was scared, there was no one around.
We started hearing explosions, I couldn't play outside,
my mother whispered songs while holding me tight.
My dear market was gone, there was a hole instead,
we couldn't find any food, just a bit of bread.
And my father would always say: "Try to keep sadness away"
On a frozen day we boarded a train, leaving our past on platform number 8.
I will never forget the words my father said looking at the horizon:
"Remember these streets that have seen you grow up,
it's people, it's trees, and every single dawn.
Remember this landscape, take my advice:
We're starting a journey to a better life.
Every year winter hides and springtime arrives.
Dear Muna, you will know soon: We all sleep under the same moon"
I remember my dear old grandma, I miss her very much,
she must be taking good care of our home, "In sha' Allah".
Idiomas
Esta canción aparece en la discografía de
LO + LEÍDO
1.
Martirio presenta «Al sur del tango», un viaje donde la copla encuentra a su «marido»
[14/04/2026]
por Xavier PintanelMartirio llevó el pasado domingo 12 de abril al Auditori de Barcelona, en el marco del Ciclo de canción de autor BarnaSants, su espectáculo Al sur del tango, una propuesta que enlaza las raíces compartidas entre Argentina y España desde una interpretación que es tanto voz como gesto y emoción.
2.
Magalí Sare, la otra Rosalía
[30/04/2026]
por Xavier PintanelLa cantante, flautista y compositora catalana Magalí Sare presenta Descasada, un trabajo entre la investigación antropológica y la libertad musical. Sare se sitúa en una escena de mujeres altamente formadas que han redefinido la canción de autor contemporánea.