1. I looked, and my friends their mounts urging on,
All clad in armor of woven rings their bodies sheathed.

2. With yearning eyes that kohl of ardour fed,
Bereft of him for whom those eyes with tears are drenched.

3. To a lightning flash unsheathing blades that in his hands
Shone bright, God-speed to him if valorous and bold.

4. Toward fresh sweet water on his left that gives
Deep draughts to slake the thirst that ever seeks for more.