Where the Tigris and Euphrates convulse,
The beautiful city of Basra is made,
A city filled of simplistic splendour,
Love, poetry, sorrow, kindness,
This is what makes Basra.
I see its streets, roads, walls, everything,
I can describe it all in perfect detail.
Such a mysterious place, filled with magic.
It is my home, where my blood is,
Where my father grew up,
Yahya and Abdul Ghani.
This city is me.
The thing is,
I am a foreigner to this city.
I have never seen it,
I don’t know what the writings on the wall mean,
I can only wish to speak the languages of my people there,
But yet I know all its details,
This is because when I think of you,
I am in Basra.