Son of Abraham

Ishmael, son of Abraham:
Repent thy hand raise to thy brother
So that he may lower his own towards you,
And hostile siblings live as one in the same one world.

Be sure God will see
Thy merciful heart as his own;
A heart where paradise welcomes with a harm embrace
All those who serves, loves and plant seeds of long lasting peace.

The household still waits for you
Son, father, brother, love, seeds of my pride.
Lineage of the one, the mighty Adam and Eve, the fallen angels and,
The creator of everyone, called by many name, knowed to you as Allah.

Come Ishmael! Let me welcome thy sore feet.
Aged skin: tell me, how many years did you spend in the desert
Hearing bliss words told, of the land to come.
As bend to the ground, thy knees show just love, no pride

Be sure, Ishmael, father of twelve,
Thy loyalty does not measure by bloodshed:
No family or ram. He only is pleased about how his word is spread,
And how those thankful hearts will, the true word, receive.

Come!
Abraham waits for you, delfin!
Son of freed slave:
Heaven does not wait for war in holly name.