1. Dawn broke while night was still dressed in its dark garb,
The processions were leaving from ‘Abd Manāf

2. Talking secretly about my separation when morning came
With my coat of mail and mantle cast aside

3. O women of the tribe, my ears hear no blame
So cease your criticism of my departure

4. For the youth pursuing glory the shade of a banner
Is better than the shade of curtained litters

5. Fate has struck me a blow
That not even staunchest armor could withstand

6. But glory will come to us when
The lance-bearer seizes its forelocks

7. And Mu‘āwiya, whenever he aspires
We blunt his purpose and make the meters lag