In front of the warehouses, close to the port, where a group of men from Syria had gathered and pitched their tents, a young man scribbled down a poem he had written about his journey and about his experience of trying to reach Britain.
Below the image you will find a translation into English, and a transliteration of the Arabic. The sound recording is of the young man singing his poem, followed by his explanation (in English) of what the story means for him.
Britain! Britain! You’re held in high esteem (litr. You’re on the eye) O, Britain!
O, Lass. By Allah! Tell me: What is the situation on lifting the fingerprints in Hungary?
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Woe and woe to me, because of the boat
It almost killed us, that boat.
Our journey has become like a film
all for the sake of Britain.
Woe and woe to me, because of the train
the youth of our group are like fire.
We walked day and night
to enter Britain.
Woe and woe to me, because of Serbia*
we crossed its border as a group*.
We met the best people
and we are happy, god willing, with Britain.
* “صِرب” (Serbians) and “سِرب” (squadron/group, invoking war) rhyme in Arabic but they do not in English.
Breetania breetania ‘al’ain yaa breetania
Yaa bnayya billaahi qooleeli esh wad’ basmati hingaria
Yaa wayli wayli min l-balam raad iymawwitna hal-balam.
Rihlatna saarat ka-l-filim kullu kurmaal breetania
Yaa wayli wayli min l-qitaar shabaab qroobna mithl l-naar.
Wi-hnaa masheena layl m’a nhaar hatta nfoot breetania.
Yaa wayli wayli min-s-sirib ‘abarna hdoodha wa-kinnaa sirib.
Wi-ltaqaina b-‘atyab sha’ib wi-mkayfeen bi-‘ithn allah ‘a-breetania.