1. Beyond peace for virtuous Imār we yearn
Though his joints and ribs are rent and torn

2. My hands grasp not the horn to make him kneel
Nor stallion reins to humble him forlorn

3. If I raid not Khaulān in their abodes
With steeds whose barding clatter as they're borne

4. Sate my ire on Quḍā‘ah, every blade
That fills the grip made for the hand that's sworn

5. Who bears my word to 'Amr ibn 'Awf's ear
And Ya'lā ibn Sa'd whom I have forewarned

6. That I shall storm the pasture, a foray
Whose shocks will shake foundations worn

7. With 'Amr ibn 'Awf my care and bane
If we should meet in battle's morn

8. He dwelled where Death holds court in the worst stead
While meadows white lay fallow and forlorn