أَنا الَّذي سَمَتني أُمي حَيدَرَه

أَنا الَّذي سَمَتني أُمي حَيدَرَه

ضِرغامُ آجامٍ وَلَيثُ قَسوَرَه

ضِرغامُ آجامٍ وَلَيثُ قَسوَرَه

I am the one my mother named Haydara.

I am the one my mother named Haydarah

I am he whose mother named him Haidar,

A fierce lion of thickets, and a mighty lion.

Baring fangs, a lion with unsheathed claws

A lion of the thickets, a fierce and mighty beast,

عَبلُ الذِراعَينِ شَديدُ القِصَرَه

عَبلُ الذِراعَينِ شَديدُ القِصَرَه

كَلَيثِ غاباتٍ كَريهِ المَنظَرَه

كَلَيثِ غاباتٍ كَريهِ المَنظَرَه

Thick in both arms, strong at the base of the neck.

My arms are thick, my grip is vice-like

Thick of forearm, stout and powerful of neck,

Like a lion of forests, fearsome to behold.

Like a lion of the forests, fearsome in appearance

Like a forest lion, terrifying in appearance.

عَلى الأَعادي مِثلَ رِيحٍ صَرصَرَه

عَلى الأَعادي مِثلَ رِيحٍ صَرصَرَه

Against my enemies I am like a hissing wind

Against the foes, like a howling wind.

I strike you with the sword as sand is measured

Against the enemies, I am like a howling gale,

أَكيلُكُم بِالسَيفِ كَيلَ السَندَرَه

أَكيلُكُم بِالسَيفِ كَيلَ السَندَرَه

أَضرِبُكُم ضَرباً يَبينُ الفَقَرَه

أَضرِبُكُم ضَرباً يَبينُ الفَقَرَه

I measure you out with the sword, using the great sandara measure.

I strike you blows that show the vertebrae

I deal you blows with the sword in wholesale measure,

I strike you with a blow that severs the spine.

Leaving the spear deep in their islands

I strike you a blow that severs the vertebrae,

وَأَترُكُ القِرنَ بِقاعِ جُزُرِهِ

وَأَترُكُ القِرنَ بِقاعِ جُزُرِهِ

أَضرِبُ بِالسَيفِ رِقابَ الكَفَرَه

أَضرِبُ بِالسَيفِ رِقابَ الكَفَرَه

And I leave the adversary on the ground of his islands.

I strike with the sword the necks of the unbelievers

And leave the adversary on the ground like a slaughtered beast.

I strike the unbelievers’ necks with the sword.

The strike of a glorious young warrior

I strike with the sword the necks of the disbelievers,

ضَربَ غُلامٍ ماجِدٍ حَزوَرَه

ضَربَ غُلامٍ ماجِدٍ حَزوَرَه

مَن يَترُكِ الحَقَّ يَقوِّم صِغَرَه

مَن يَترُكِ الحَقَّ يَقوِّم صِغَرَه

With the stroke of a noble, sturdy youth.

He who forsakes truth will straighten its bend

The blow of a noble, vigorous youth,

Whoever forsakes the truth has his littleness set right.

I kill seven or ten of them

Whoever forsakes the Truth, I straighten his deviation,

أَقتُلُ مِنهُم سَبعَةً أَو عَشَرَة

أَقتُلُ مِنهُم سَبعَةً أَو عَشَرَة

فَكُلَّهُم أَهلُ فُسوقٍ فَجَرَه

فَكُلَّهُم أَهلُ فُسوقٍ فَجَرَه

I kill seven or ten of them.

For they are all wickedly immoral people

I kill seven or ten of them at once,

For all of them are people of sin, evildoers.

For they are all people of corruption and vice.