(dedicated to the all-women brigades of the Kurdish YPG ܚܕܝ̈ܘܬܐ ܕܣܘܬܪܐ ܕܥܡܐ)

 

Some say we can only play our part

(Most promise money, a very few art),

Nobody outlives the roles they play

Or so they say,

We must continue day-to-day.

 

Or so the complacent westerners say.

 

We? We choose another, older, harder way,

Cast our ashes along the crucified way,

Exposed to the sun we live the live-long day

Like our cousins, the Zororastrians, we love to pray.

 

Come, follow the Êzidî to Mount Sinjar

See the graves of our children close at hand,

See the mass graves from afar.

All that ISIS did, and the west did nothing.

 

Tawûsê Melek', is the Golden Peacock, the

Brightest of bright angels

Saytan leads our way,

Persecuted through the ages,

We have never run away

Until August 2014.

We have wept for seven thousand years

And still we weep today: facing

Genocide, these Salafists at play

We will fight them to our dying day.

.

The sun, the holy sun,

Still shines on us today

We are the Ezidi

Our day will come, some say.