1. He was astonished at our fleeting smiles,
And many a smile concealing clenched teeth,

2. On the eve when the separation cleaved in twain the darling one alive,
There accumulated from our misery and sorrow,

3. So we came confused, counting the blow arduous,
When our faith was swept away by ruin,

4. And the tears overflowed from Amro's gazing eyes,
With which he melted the essence of his tender companions,

5. So I said to him, "Do not cry over the separation, we
Were created for it, created like the spear for thrusting."

6. I have met with every strange thing from the days
That cast doubt around my comfort with calamities,

7. And no night in Iraq have I spent awake
Seeking the fever's people in every dozing one,

8. The dawns pass by, they do not visit their land's soil
So their glow makes me swoon,

9. Methinks the stars are swords
With which the lightning warns every towering height,

10. And that the planets are arrows to every weeping eye
In which grief and devastation are a haunting spectre,

11. As if the darkness leaned upon it like a troop
And warned with its horrors every sleeping one,

12. Until the beloved's standard gleamed, and the morning breaths
Greeted it with attacking gusts of wind.

13. To you, my companion, his sun thunders today,
And the confusion of a night dark with quenched stars,

14. And a time whose leviathans swam in its heavens,
And its stars were in a turbulent sea,

15. Its iniquity refused to be appeased by our reproach,
And wrongdoing in it is none but the plaint of the wronged,

16. And a stab we gave it the throats, and a need
We were too proud to have fulfilled with disputes,

17. So we leapt to it with the leap of swords, and the platforms of might
Were stirred in us, and noble deeds,

18. Until the wilderness confined us, and it tried
To add the living to the dead with partitions,

19. And if the deserts have found our mounts
They have emitted from us agony into partitions,

20. Our breaths and speech therein
Will be praises of the King of justice,

21. And it will please the deserts that it does not slacken remembering him
For our mouths have mimicked the gaping jaws,

22. A youth whose hair the water of youth
Has not yet slipped down his cheek, but he has sought the tasting of bitterness,

23. And in it he has endured fifteen years of pilgrimage
To glory, defending the breasts of the mighty,

24. The brother of war, he doubles its edge while still unsheathed
And surrenders from it while the spear is unbroken,

25. When he travels in it, guided by his spear,
Then none guided but by the water of ponds,

26. He gives generously that for which he prefers dew
When the people are stingy with noble souls,

27. A youth who does not see that sorrows are misfortunes,
And that the joy of life is an inescapable blow,

28. In his wealth every hopeful hopes
And every compassionate one seeks his mercy,

29. When the sword does not descend with its glittering blade,
Then it is not of his opinions and resolves,

30. A generous one beseeched you, whose hopes are never dashed,
And your sword-stroke at a cloud never misaimed,

31. So anticipate from your cold a direction toward a cloud
That endures while the water-spring does not last,

32. And I did not know that refusing you is a passionate lover,
And that bestowing wealth is one of the spoils,

33. The noble youth sells his ambitions through his loyalty
And has stayed up late, humble in provisions,

34. I see time compensating some of what it has taken
Its winnings are plundered by the losses,

35. Lo! The possessions of the lands are tempting prey
For the leap of the long-armed panther,

36. They are ambitions, when engaging in battle think
They are, by stabbing an impenetrable armor, spared death,

37. So rise amidst its embers, my son, pillar of the people,
If death has made all else sit down,

38. For the land of Iraq has revealed its mask,
And Syria longs for you, the longing of a loving gazelle,

39. And the enemies know their swords
Fall upon their necks and joints,

40. They have unsheathed them while their faces are ghastly,
But they have not replaced their sheaths with skulls,

41. And too narrow for the traces left by your stabbing them
Is what teaches them the seizing of retreat,

42. You have a grandfather who splits rock with his sharp edge
And violates the chest of the struggling throng,

43. And you never meet dew except with a decisive name,
Nor avert devastation except as one firm of purpose,

44. And any place delighted you and any dwelling
Is where the hunting of lions takes place by the growling ones,

45. Protected by the chase of horses angering the gazelle
When its horsemen are separated by banners,

46. And every youth who counts death as spoils
Fears losing it if he does not engage in battle,