My father
I prose to you
With Allah above as Witness.
Hasn’t He gifted you by me
In obedience to you, a dutiful daughter
Your pleasure, the boast of your laughter.

My father
To you is your nationality
That blinds you
To you is your culture
That suppresses you
To you is your arrogance
That overwhelms you.

To me is loyalty of Islam
And observe my father how it molds.

Have you seen Brother Ahmed?
Dignified he walks
Modest he talks
What shortcomings you see?
Syrian I hear? Muslim I say!

Have you seen brother Ayman?
At his sermons you tremble
At his recitations you humble
What shortcomings you see?
Egyptian I hear? Muslim I say!

Have you seen brother Abdul-Majeed?
Not one in need but he gives
For the life of the Hereafter he lives
What shortcomings you see?
Indian I hear? Muslim I say!

Have you seen Brother David or Dawood to you?
He calls us all to justice
And forbids all injustice
What shortcomings you see?
American I hear? Muslim I say!

Has not your visit to the masjid spoke?
Who left his sleep
For the rows with the believers?
Who left his work
For the rows with the believers?
Who left the delights of evening
For the rows with the believers?
Who left the relaxation of the sunset
For the rows with the believers?
Who left the nights of pleasure
For the rows with the believers?
Ahmed and his brothers did,
And your folks?

Isn’t Saleh a miserly hoarder of money?
Isn’t Muhammad a partier of the nights?
Isn’t Abdullah known as Abd az Zina?
What masajids do they know?

Tell me my father
In whose hands you wish me to be?
With he whose body resonates transgression, rebellion
Or he whose body resonates resplendently with Ihsan?
He who will father my children with Fasad,
Or he who will father my children with Iman?

Alas! The pain my father
The Apples of my eyes I shall not bear
The sounds of affection I shall not hear
The sensational touches I shall not feel
The bliss of family in prayer I shall not see
For you, my father, refuse all but your nation
I refuse all but who’s clothed with Taqwa.