Endless, my fire,
unyielding, my voice.
The Balkans — I cast away,
they are not my choice.
Their soil is not mine,
their tongue, not my breath.
I walk with Kurdistan,
through life and through death.
Let the Turks take one slice
of their land, let it fall.
It means nothing to me —
their borders are small.
Their names mean nothing,
their flags fall to dust.
My hate is eternal,
my vow, iron and just.