I Was Born to Learn Kurdish
I was born with longing in my chest,
A language lost, my soul’s unrest.
Between the mountains, in the dawn,
A hidden word – I carry on.
My mother’s voice, a gentle stream,
The songs of elders haunt my dream.
I seek the roots I cannot see,
In every word: my history.
Let others talk of fates they know,
But I was born – my heart tells so –
Not just to speak, but to return
To Kurdish fire, to live, to learn.