1. The allies have fled, and their leader too,
Of no use were their coats of mail or their swords.

2. Their hopes for what they sought have failed,
While your wise judgement has set things right.

3. Let not their advance upon us deceive you -
Old and young are equal to them.

4. Grown men with childish resolve,
Their saddles lie discarded in the fray.

5. They think death has wings
That will lift her when the banners shake.

6. But they never heard the clash of your swords,
Except when the hilltops and ground met.

7. You crept upon them as vultures do,
And under your feet the lions swarmed.

8. Every thankful being extols what hands have made,
Not what swords and soldiers have done.

9. So go gently, my lord, just a little,
For these people are all your slaves.

10. Keep your blades unsullied by their blood,
Their hilts are fit for kings' palms.

11. Your scowling face is enough to melt them,
And the frozen flee in terror from it.

12. O clan of Dhahal, after glory you have returned degraded,
Accustomed to disgrace and submission.

13. You remain as the fates desired,
While the prince remains resolute.