Children,
Kind and gentle,
Without much money,
But hearts too big to carry,
As beautiful smiles break up,
At the word "Ottoman",
And we rejoice at meeting,
One another in this land,
Far away, In Somalia,
Beautiful girls,
Tall, slender and noble,
With long scarves,
Falling to the ground,
As Their big, black eyes,
Show all the affection,
And Heartfelt compassion,
As we meet- granchildren,
Of our great ancestors,
Who made us brother and sister,
By a uniting umbrella,
The word Ottoman included all,
As we were suprised to meet,
Graceful girls,
Named "Istanbul",
Living in the distant land,
Of Somalia.