Fi juba

By the White Nile shore, layl dafi, Your footsteps slow like a whispered prayer. You laugh soft, ya rohi, And the whole city forgets its heavy air. Tukuls glowing, children running, Your hand finds mine like it always knew. Friendship carried us gently, But matrimony… it carved a path for two. Fi hudood lil‑nas, Fi hudood lil‑kalami. But when your eyes call my name, Even the limits bow gently. Hudood el‑galbi ma‘ak bitzool, Even if the world says “stop.” Sadiqti, habibti, You’re the line I never drop. Fi Juba, fi Khartoum, Between dust, rain, and noon heat — Love has its borders, But still we meet. We walked markets full of colors, Spices rising like old songs. Your voice soft like Omdurman nights, Your courage fierce like Bor dawns. You told me, “ma fi zoul bila hudood,” And I said, “true… but love can bend.” So we built a home from two cities, Where limits don’t mean the end. Ya amar, ya salam, Your presence makes the borders fade. Even the river slows its breath When your name is said. Hudood el‑galbi ma‘ak bitzool, Even if the world says “stop.” Sadiqti, habibti, You’re the line I never drop. Fi Juba, fi Khartoum, Between dust, rain, and noon heat — Love has its borders, But still we meet. If the river dries, If the city sleeps, If the world draws lines We cannot keep — Ana maashi ma‘ak, Through every rise and fall. Limits shape the story, But love writes it all. Hudood el‑galbi ma‘ak bitzool, You turn every boundary into light. Sadiqti, habibti, You’re my morning after night. Fi Juba, fi Khartoum, Where two hearts learn to agree — Love has its limits, But you’re limitless to me. White Nile breeze… Your head on my chest… And the night whispers softly: “This love knows its borders — but still chooses the rest.