1. بَغى الذُلّانُ غايَتَنا وَأَنّى

    يُقامُ المَجدُ بِالعَمَدِ القِصارِ

    The lowly sought our summit—but how

    Can glory be raised on short pillars?

  2. وَأَهتَكُهُم لِكُلِّ خِباءِ نَقعٍ

    إِذا ما مُدَّ أَطنانُ الغُبارِ

    And I am their fiercest at rending every tent of battle-dust,

    When the masses of dust are spread out.

  3. كَأَنَّ الدَمعَ فَوقَ الحَدِّ مِنها

    حَبابٌ يَستَديرُ عَلى عُقارِ

    As though her tears upon the edge

    Were bubbles forming rings upon wine.