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Foreign lands have ruined my village for a century The nightingale went and an owl perched, come on Those who say I am the lord, I am the pasha They have locked the doors, come on Come on, my dudu dill, come on Come on, I am dead, come on One house is left here, one house across The problem, what happened to our neighbors? A forty-year-old tree has dried up, isn't it like our village? Come on, my dudu dill, come on Come on, I am dead, come on I burn and burn for this trouble I will search until I find our house I am a spring that doesn't give way to beauties An owl has perched on its rocks, come on Come on, my dudu dill, come on Come on, I am dead, come on