Iraqi child, why do you mourn?
Why do you look so all forlorn?
Your father was a soldier brave,
and still he lives, beyond the grave,
beyond his body torn.
 
Iraqi child, what do you fear?
Why does there linger yet a tear?
Your mother gave, though she was poor,
all through her love. She is no more.
She loved you very dear.
 
Iraqi child, Baghdad ophan,
give praise to Allah while you can.
Amid the rubble, standing still --
He feeds you not: it is His will
you shall not be a man.