On the Iraqi border, or in in Afghanistan Where sergeant and the boys are guarding our side Lies a valley known just as "no manís land" And on the other side, the enemy resides And on the field in no-manís land below The most exquisite flowers grow. The sergeantís fiance decided to get married Came to him and said "tomorrow, that is all!" We just need one small bouquet, for the bride to carry But without the flowers, no point to rent the hall And on the field in no-manís land below The most exquisite flowers grow. On that same very night, their captain was surprised To see his love Sabah, come to visit their base And though she spoke in Arabic, you could tell by her eyes That she was getting married, and moving to his place And on the field in no-manís land below The most exquisite flowers grow. The brave boys and our sergeant, on that night decided To raid on the flowers, down in no manís land And of course they didnít know that on the other side In the Arabsí minds was the very same plan And on the field in no-manís land below The most exquisite flowers grow. Drunk from the flowersí smell, was captain Abdullah And just as drunk was our sergeant S. T. Ford Jumping on flowers, he exclaimed "Ya Allah!" And in English our sarge yelled similar words And on the field in no-manís land below The most exquisite flowers grow. Our sergeant is sleeping, and in his dream The border has dissolved, the war has been won He doesnít give a fuck, about the new regime He doesnít need Iraq, or Afghanistan Just no manís land, just that one thing and A bouquet in his brideís hands And on the field in no-manís land below The most exquisite flowers grow.
© Ilya Yakubovich. Translation, 2006