I’m no date seller but I aspire to be
In the love of Ali I yearn to be Maytham
I’m tied not to a tree, but tied to its root
And the root of Islam is Abu Talib’s son
Mountains may be moved but my faith cannot be
When one falls for Ali, that choice has long gone
I hear them whisper that my love for him is too much
Don’t they know that in his love I seek to drown?
That I sip from the rivers of Wilayah of Ali
Until the day it blessings drown both my lungs
Maytham watered the tree upon which he would die
I carry the crucifix which I’ll be pinned on
Maytham knew no words but praises of Ali
And if I am blessed, Maytham I’ll become
And I will recite the virtues of Ali
Until the day that they cut out my tongue