Oh, Brother! Heaven your great soul doth claim
As we humbly sing of your immortal and righteous fame;
Libya’s vast beauty you did us, in love,  engage,
Where you sought nobler objects in our civil rage:
And, with wise conduct, to your home country showed
The hope, the promise on this, our land bestowed.
The crown of a hero you must now eternal wear,
On your victorious head, sadly now lay prostrate there.
We that loved you, grieve, concerned this day to see
Such a price for liberty and freedom, which is never free
In heaven angels weep at such an untimely death
In unimaginable grief we Libyans mourn with a single breath