خَليلَيَّ إِنَّ الأَرْضَ ضَاقَتْ بِرُحْبِها

خَليلَيَّ إِنَّ الأَرْضَ ضَاقَتْ بِرُحْبِها

وكم بينَ أَطْرافِ القَنا مِنْ مَنادِحِ

وكم بينَ أَطْرافِ القَنا مِنْ مَنادِحِ

My two friends, the earth has indeed grown narrow despite its vastness;

My friend, though the earth is vast in its expanse

And how many ways out there are among the spear-points!

How many battlefields lie between the tips of the spear

وَلا عِزَّ إِلّا صَهْلَةُ الخَيْلِ في الوَغى

وَلا عِزَّ إِلّا صَهْلَةُ الخَيْلِ في الوَغى

فَلا تَأْلَفا شَدْوَ القِيانِ الصَّوادِحِ

فَلا تَأْلَفا شَدْوَ القِيانِ الصَّوادِحِ

And there is no glory save the neighing of horses in battle;

Glory lies only in the neighing of the steed amidst the fray

So do not grow fond of the ringing songs of the singing slave girls.

So heed not the croaking of complacent weaklings

وَإِنّي لَأَرْجُو وَالرَّجاءُ وَسيلَةٌ

وَإِنّي لَأَرْجُو وَالرَّجاءُ وَسيلَةٌ

إِلى اللهِ أَنْ أُكْفَى تَلَمُّسَ كادِحِ

إِلى اللهِ أَنْ أُكْفَى تَلَمُّسَ كادِحِ

And I do hope—hope being a means of approach

For I still hope, and hope is the path

to God—to be spared a toiler’s groping,

To God, that I will be saved from the grasping of the toiler

وَأَحْظى بِمُلْكٍ مِنْ جُدودِي وَرِثْتُهُ

وَأَحْظى بِمُلْكٍ مِنْ جُدودِي وَرِثْتُهُ

فَزَنْدِي وَرِيٌّ وَهْوَ في كَفِّ قادِحِ

فَزَنْدِي وَرِيٌّ وَهْوَ في كَفِّ قادِحِ

and gain a kingdom I inherited from my forefathers;

And gain a kingdom from my ancestors I inherit

For my fire-stick is quick to spark, and it is in a fire-striker’s palm.

So my sword is lightning, held in the grasp of one who strikes sparks

عَجِيْتُ مِنَ اثْنَيْنِ اسْتُضيما وَأَجْحَفَتْ

عَجِيْتُ مِنَ اثْنَيْنِ اسْتُضيما وَأَجْحَفَتْ

بِقَدْرَيْهِما أَيْدِي الخُطوبِ الفَوادِحِ

بِقَدْرَيْهِما أَيْدِي الخُطوبِ الفَوادِحِ

I marvelled at two men wronged, and at the harm done

I suffered injustice from two, aggrieved was I

to their standing by the hands of grievous calamities:

By the hands of calamitous fates, destructive disasters

مِنَ ابنِ كَريِمٍ لَمْ تُصِبْهُ خَصاصَةٌ

مِنَ ابنِ كَريِمٍ لَمْ تُصِبْهُ خَصاصَةٌ

وَمِنْ أُمَوِيٍّ لِلْأَراذِلِ مادِحِ

وَمِنْ أُمَوِيٍّ لِلْأَراذِلِ مادِحِ

a nobleman’s son whom poverty has not touched,

One, a noble son, upon whom no disgrace falls

and an Umayyad who praises the base.

The other, an Umayyad, praising the worthless rabble