O son of the mastermind, O Abu Ishaq – the poet Al-Buhtari
O son of the mastermind, O Abu Ishaq,
Provide relief to you and expel wealth
Live for chivalry, bullying, loftyness,
and etiquette, and morals
but our omnipotent ears, it
It is narrated with the smooth water of your words
And when calamities darken their events,
I put on your face the best radiance
And if your clouds shone, you did not care
for thunderous sermons, and the telegraph
lard preserved, What is his right?
Start, and you are one of the lovers
Here it is God’s gift to you
two brothers, the fan, and this remains
I commend you, what I put my hand on,
And loosed my bonds from the captivity of time
hey hey, if you measured the world by it
far from the horizons
I was the stranger, When I met you, you came back to me
forget, And Iraq became Iraq