1. A youth came to you from honorable Maḍḥij
Brave against enemies, never retreating

2. So O son of Ziyad, lament with greatest sorrow
And taste the sharpness of my polished blades

3. We struck you with the sword of wrath but did not flee
When we, a killer, met with one to be killed

4. May God reward well the police of God, they
Quenched yesterday the burning thirst of their oppressed

5. And Hind deserves to be led in chains
She who wed Isaac's son, the worst of spouses