1. I censure, though my people love war, my people,
When grievous misfortunes befall,

2. Rabee'a, when the fires blaze,
It's not that I praise them out of vain glory,

3. But I see my people as kings,
While Qais in their souls are lesser men.

4. We surpass men in that the neighbor among us
Gives refuge, and what neighbor grants refuge?

5. And that we feed guests betimes,
When the maiden lays the evening meal.

6. And we are the warriors when we meet,
The bulls of the tribe, as Nizar knows.

7. We defend against dishonor our sons,
And we know that the tribe's cowardice is shame,

8. With blows none can requite, and stabs
Like mouths of water-skins—theirs is mischief.

9. I sated my soul on the sons of Qais,
And that to you from Qais is pride.

10. They made us taste their swords, and tasted in turn;
So how saw you us yield, and they become?

11. Hudhayl seeks refuge in Ibn Dukhan's sons—
Hudhayl, that indeed is baseness.

12. And Hatim denies that among them exists,
When fires flare up, a burning brand.

13. By your father's life, and tidings spread—
Escape, Zufar, did indeed save you,

14. Your racing off not looking back at us
With dung-splattered crupper when the roans sweat.

15. You aimed it left-handed from afar at us—
It could, from emptiness, be folded up.

16. No, by your father! Could you reach my tribe,
The eagles still would shade your wing bones.

17. Their wars will continue, so you will meet
Spears that are not for sale or loan.

18. At the hands of a band who slew Bujayr
When their war flared up and fires stoked.