1. When I saw generosity spurring on its steeds
Towards peril whereby every coward turns and flees,

2. I praised a steed who lodged 'twixt Saýýār's abodes
And fortress with far-stretching heights is he.

3. Ansar son of Saýýār – in thy two hands combined
With generosity are strokes of death designed,

4. Orator of kings whose steeds will never fail
To keep Ghazzān's gap 'neath shades that ne'er decline

5. When morning's mead is bared of its gown of gloam
And gleam of night-cloak on the saddlecloth doth shine

6. He sallies forth the horsemen's horse beneath his flag
Down lengthy vales made narrow by the lines.

7. Thou hast united highness, generosity and clemency –
Thy sire's example followed banishing all poverty.

8. Thou art the steed son of a steed and lord
Of lords of probity, old men of high degree

9. Thou art a man who if asked for bounty grants it freely
Abundant, and if interceding turns the best referee