What shall I say to the sheep from my window?
What shall I say to the sheep who just play?
What shall I say when the sheep will not listen?
Where shall we go when our land is stolen away?
Whom shall I hate when the moon is arisen?
Gone is our land and the grave soon, our prison.
What shall I say when my children come crying?
What shall I say when their mother lies dying?
Go to your graves, for Islam has risen.
And now for the correct version from that rather unusual film The Innocents.
What shall I sing to my lord from my window? What shall I sing for my lord will not stay? What shall I sing for my lord will not listen? Where shall I go when my lord is away? Whom shall I love when the moon is arisen? Gone is my lord and the grave is his prison. What shall I say when my lord comes a calling? What shall I say when he knocks on my door? What shall I say when his feet enter softly? Leaving the marks of his grave on my floor. Enter my lord. Come from your prison. Come from your grave, for the moon is a risen. Welcome, my lord.
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