1. How many a hero yesterday eve did pass,
Beneath the crescent's orb of clemency,

2. Only to fall at morn a breathless corse,
By neither bonds nor sword-edge bound a thrall.

3. Had foemen hemmed him in, they had closed back,
As the wont is, from his forward-pressing track;

4. But o’er him hurtled down Fate's massy stone,
Launched by an arm well skilled to speed its flight aright.

5. It rushed through air like fire-flame's tongue,
And flying flames from brand enkindled bright,

6. Then burst as 'twere a waterskin, with all
Who met it from the sides or frontways hurled amain,

7. My soul is anguished for the warrior's pain,
Although for him no pity doth obtain

8. Who falls not fighting still, while yet his blood beats high.
Ah me! Yon grief-bowed head and weeping eye,

9. Mourning the sapling of green years outworn
In unkindly hour, on sorrow's breast forlorn,

10. Under a tent whose curtains darkling sway
As the night tempests blow at break of day-

11. Lo! how its taper light doth pale and fail,
Dimmed by his gushing life-blood's ruddy veil,

12. Pouring from rubies fair a flood of flame
Crimsoning all the tent and soil with gore-

13. As though it were the red rain evermore
Weeping from blood-veined cloud on kindled pyre.

14. But for hot blood what need of blaze and fire?
Enough of light is shed by what they see.

15. O ye who live, we live but for your sake!
The coward and the brave alike we take

16. To be our ransom from the grave and blot.
Vainly pretends to generous deeds, I wot,

17. Who at the moment when the troops deploy
Stays hiding in his tent from bold alloy.

18. A book of deeds is that which gives him length of days;
Short is his life who shortens it by indolence of ways.

19. Are then the self-abased and valiant man the same,
The shirker of the fight, the one who fans its flame?

20. O Arabs of heroic fame unrolled
Through storied page from hero-ages old,

21. My spirit in you came to life again,
Shamed be the race that you belong to, if

22. Through me thus vanquished and dishonoured sore
It brook reproach and vileness evermore.

23. Hail to the sword that is my folk's right arm,
To the proud voices that my hosts acclaim,

24. To the bright lamps that send my night alarm
At idle speech that wrongs my people's name!

25. How oft for them my tears and passion burn!
How oft the wish my sleeping zeal to wake

26. Assailed me, while it took no heed or spurned
Reproach, till foemen's taunts resentment broke

27. In my grieved soul, and roused it into flame
That chid itself:" Awake! why idlest thou?"

28. What spell is this o'er human tribes so potent,
That when disaster comes it leaves them dumb?

29. Lo, the calamity at last has risen
That wakens them. Rejoice, my soul, rejoice!

30. Can it be that a people wrapt in slothfulness so gross
Should not arise to meet the foe and face his force?

31. As through long days of bygone years was your wont to be
Ye routed hosts that rallied not nor ceased in constancy.

32. Scorned by you be the life of dull, dishonoured ease,
Lift up your heads! proudly the spoiler challenge! win the seas!

33. Be blackness on their days and nights by shame so grieved
And venerable till the end endure.

34. Why should ye ask, what thing so strange hath now befallen,
Why should thine order at this hour appal men?

35. Let each at will wax great or small again.
God is the lord of battles for thy brave to gain,

36. Leviathans to haul them by the cord.
When their riders virgin war's seal-guarded jewel break

37. Lo! from their tents hawks scattering to the storm awaken
That sound the knell of death and fateful morn;

38. Then foemen find that refuge there is none,
Though here no camp nor tent had met their sight,

39. Safe in its bowel the assailant lurks from sun
Like conscience in the soul's recess of night:

40. No outward sign they see save when the falcon darts
Forth from its hidden vert upon the prey;

41. As the pards bounding o'er Sahära's fiery wold,
The bittern's swoop adown the kindled lea,

42. The whale's swift dash through ocean's driving sea,-
And when her young ones' coveting of food

43. Draws near the mother wandering far aloof,
Though far she be, her sucklings are not scared;

44. Hidden, within their vitals she doth cleave
Like right made one with kindred knit in strictest bond and tie.

45. So while they wandered on a doubtful road,
By friends and neighbours piloted awry,-

46. Lo! Sudden from on high between th' accordant bands
Split the loud tongue of flame, a giant jinn leapt forth

47. In crash of thunder from his rocky hold laid bare.
Aghast they fled, like oxen that wild lions scare

48. Or men affrighted at the last trumpet's call.
With marble hand each headlong charger clutching fast,

49. Those raven locks that swathe their knights like clouds of night
Swept off their braided coils before the blast:

50. The flying spears tear out and cast their souls and sight
Through breaking breastplate and disjected mail,

51. Till the doomed rides are bathed in bloody light,
And casting round swift glances of despight

52. Happy deem they those martyred by their lead!
As though a stubborn, struggling bull they drew,

53. Or like some honored steed's unsaddled load.
If but the riders doff their flowing gown,

54. Lo! charging knights by charging coursers thrown;
Pard-like they leap, or stooping eagles' swoop

55. Breasting the Lords' pavilion's billowing roof;
Or back enfolded in their plaids again

56. With trackless steps like raging torrent's flow
Through starless glooms down the white peaks of snow

57. Precipitate; vainly their foemen strain
To catch their trail; baffled they gaze around

58. Seeing no camp nor fire upon the ground,
Hearing no voice save the loud tumult's roar,-

59. Lo! riders on their elephants' broad back,
Lo! the morale bestowing lash's crack,

60. While still amazed the rider knows no more
Whether the earth have gaped or heaven descend,

61. So light the spring, so heavy doom's weight
And swift the bolt that lays the lithe lifes low;

62. For mid the whirling crowds dispersed and blent
The dead men strew the field like rain-soaked glittering tents.

63. My country! such the self-defence wherewith of old
Thy valor guarded thee serene and uncontrolled:

64. By this, oh learn that now if thou defend
Unitedly, the teeming hosts shall fail that round thee bend;

65. Then learn that if divider thou remain
Seeking the further shore (which still shall flee thy strain).

66. The little worth of goods for which we pant
Shall less than loyal men and true to thee appear:

67. And bounty guerdon, payment the most dear,
Not poor return late harvested scant.

68. Whose footprints' traces time makes long,
Endures; who short, himself grows shortly great no more.

69. Is then the ignobly slack to be compared
With him who in his country's cause stands firmly dared?

70. My race! whose history from the early tide
Flows in a stream ne'er checked by limits of human pride

71. From Kência's age, öayis ibn Shaiban's line,
To Antara, Zabiba famed as he,

72. To the poor orphaned boy of Koreysh race divine,
Victorious over men by mother wit's decree,

73. To Abû Bekr, his successor ordained,
Whose blood was freely shed o'er Holy Writ to reign,

74. To Ali, his peoples' guiding star of fight,
Their sacred oriflamme in danger's stress and blight,

75. Of guiding lords from warfare's whirlwind blown,
Of holy doctors by their wisdom known

76. That poured profusely forth inspiring light
To pierce night's deepest gloom,-all these were my delight at sight

77. Or hearing of them, waking or in nightly dream.
Long had I chid her listlessness, what time drew near

78. The gloomy dawn whose shadows drave me wild with fear
Of a swart stripped gigantic dust-veiled foe,

79. Speeding on steeds that champ the rein when bridles slip
Through drifting sand or stones from torrent's bed, or ships

80. Water-dividing prows; whom doubts confuse the more
They toil to match his cunning open lore,

81. Till rang clear the fateful summons in each ear
When I rejoiced, "Now, Soul, admire how God hath changed their fear

82. To burning shamefast prickings of desire!"
For how should nations sunk in languor so prolonged

83. Kindle to life at stroke of the world-signs abhorred?
My country now restores my ancient pride,

84. Meeting the sudden blow as oft befell of yore
In days when by endurance thou wert fortified.