1. The nightingale sang by the banks of the Tigris
The East listens to you, so sing more

2. Give us the rhymes weeping, for nothing
Pleases the distressed more than tears

3. Give us the laments for Iraq, for its star
Has been blotted out by the dark nights

4. They have frightened you, so you stopped your melody
You want, O singer of melody

5. Do not tire yourself, for the East is an orchard
Whose fruits are storms and thunder

6. Do not tire yourself, for the East has no homeland
For the free man, the East is the land of slaves