مُستَفحَلٌ يَستَورِهُ الهِياخا

مُستَفحَلٌ يَستَورِهُ الهِياخا

اَرقَبُ يَمشى مُكبَلاً مَيّاخا

اَرقَبُ يَمشى مُكبَلاً مَيّاخا

A mighty male who deems the swaggerer a fool.

A swollen torrent cloaked in heavy mist,

Thick-necked, he walks fettered, swaying in his gait.

A neck walking fettered with iron chains,

تَرَى عَلَيهِ جِلداً جَنباخا

تَرَى عَلَيهِ جِلداً جَنباخا

نَطَّاحَة لا يَشتَكِي الصِّماخا

نَطَّاحَة لا يَشتَكِي الصِّماخا

You see upon him a massive hide.

You see upon it skin like armor,

A fierce head-butter, he feels no pain in his ear canal.

A camel that does not complain of branding.

اذا تَداعَى الفِتَنُ انتِجاخا

اذا تَداعَى الفِتَنُ انتِجاخا

فَرَقَ اِرجافَهُمُ النَّجّاخا

فَرَقَ اِرجافَهُمُ النَّجّاخا

When troubles gather in boastful clamor,

When seditions clash and roar,

he disperses their noisy alarm-mongering.

Their cowardice scatters them like frightened ostriches.

لَو يَنطَحُ العادِيَةَ الفِرضاخا

لَو يَنطَحُ العادِيَةَ الفِرضاخا

حَسَبتَها مِن شَِّجِهِ القَلاّخا

حَسَبتَها مِن شَِّجِهِ القَلاّخا

If he were to butt the massive, age-old rock,

If he butts the she-camel, the saddle-maker,

you would think it, from his crashing, head-splitting blow,

You would think, from his vigor, a blacksmith.

حَنظَلَةً تَنفَضِحُ انفِضاخا

حَنظَلَةً تَنفَضِحُ انفِضاخا

عَن مُصعَبٍ تَرَى لَهُ اِكماخا

عَن مُصعَبٍ تَرَى لَهُ اِكماخا

a colocynth laid open, bursting apart.

A young female hyena, bleating as she walks,

You see him driving away from Mus'ab

You see in Mus'ab a perfect cloak.

عادِيَةً وَمِرجَماً جَمّاخا

عادِيَةً وَمِرجَماً جَمّاخا

فَلا تَرَى فى اَمرِنا انفِساخا

فَلا تَرَى فى اَمرِنا انفِساخا

an attacking force and a proud, stone-scattering charger.

A she-camel, and a stud trained for war,

So you see in our cause no breaking away

You see no giving way in our affair,

عَن عُقَدِ الحَقِّ وَلا امتِداخا

عَن عُقَدِ الحَقِّ وَلا امتِداخا

from the bonds of right, nor any self-glorification.

Nor any slackness in the bonds of Truth.