1. We often recount in Qais and Tameem
And in this noble tribe of Asad

2. Amer son of Tufayl, I have composed poetry for him
Cleaving the chests of warriors with straight thrusts

3. When he sensed the roses would reach him
Wielding his sword, the brave warrior

4. He called out to make peace after death
Had seized him by the throat and jugular

5. And had he tried dissembling with me until I engaged him
I would have stabbed him with a fiery blow of the flint