لَنا بِالبَصرَةِ البَيضا

ءِ أُلّافٌ وَإِخوانُ

In Basra we have thousands of brothers,

We have in Basra, the city White,

Gentle Bahalil and good-natured Masamih.

Companions and brothers, a true delight,

بَهاليلُ مَساميحُ

لَهُم فَضلٌ وَإِحسانُ

They have merit and benevolence,

Noble masters, generous and free,

As if the grand mosque were a blossoming garden at night

Possessed of grace and charity.

كَأَنَّ المَسجِدَ الجامِ

عَ عِندَ اللَيلِ بُستانُ

With all sorts of delicate plants and colorful flowers.

As though the Mosque of Congregation,

On his cheek there is a mole

At night becomes a garden station,

وَفيهِ مِنَ طَريفِ النَب

تِ وَالأَزهارِ أَلوانُ

That captivates all hearts.

Containing plants of curious strain,

He made me drink a cup

And blossoms of every colored vein.

لَهُ في خَدِّهِ خالٌ

بِهِ الأَلبابُ فُتّانُ

That lit fires in my heart.

Upon his cheek a mole is set,

The troops of Iblis aid him

Ensnaring minds in beauty's net.

وَقَد جَرَّعَني كَأساً

لَها في القَلبِ نيرانُ

In causing tribulations, they are his helpers.

He made me drain a cup of desire,

His dagger was sharpened

That set my inner heart on fire.

لَهُ مِن جُندِ إِبليسَ

عَلى الفِتنَةِ أَعوانُ

On the whetstone of souls, it flows with blood.

He commands a troop of Iblis's own,

And Imran ibn Amr

To aid the seduction he has sown.

شَبا خَنجَرِهِ مِن عَ

لَقِ الأَجوافِ رَيّانُ

In him lies glory and stature.

His dagger's point is quenched and red,

When he comes, people say

With the blood of hearts that freely bled.

وَعِمرانُ اِبنُ عَمروٍ

فَفيهِ الأَمرُ وَالشانُ

"A gazelle, grazing and with protruding teeth."

And 'Imran, son of 'Amr, is he,

So whoever asks about my heart,

Of high command and dignity.

إِذا أَقبَلَ قالَ النا

سُ ظَبيٌ ريعَ وَسنانُ

My heart is wherever they are.

When he draws near, the people gaze:

"A startled, sleepy fawn!" they praise.

فَمَن يَسأَلُ عَن قَلبي

فَقَلبي حَيثُما كانوا

So whoever asks where my heart lies,

My heart is wherever they reside.