The flying hills and its tinted gold
Its pyramids and the blinking moulds
Beautiful the night, a city behold
New dawn it was at Bur Dubai
The city that never boasts of mountain
Infertile the land unfriendly the grains
Until comes a dreamer called Maktoum
Muhammed, the son to raise the tune
At the sea end stands nations inertia
In father’s desires, Maktoum built to sky
Descendants of warriors, to sea he claimed
To build the Palms, the earth, for world to hail
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