1. My eyes, you bring me no joy unless you gladden me, else your pain is mine,
Beyond grief there is no solace, no patience left,

2. Scarce are the tears that flow from my eyes, though they ease the heat in my chest,
Had a people fought death before us with something, we'd fight fate for mankind,

3. Yet we grieve, and misfortune is one,
For the white-blessed chief of Banu Amir, affairs went awry,

4. For a king, at whose loss stars almost tumbled, and mountains were shaken,
See how mountains bowed, and after you stars no longer shine,

5. None had needs as we did, but no era lasts,
If India hasn't wept for him, the Pleiades in their clusters have,

6. How Abu Al-‘Asi has shamed his father, as if veils fell off a full moon,
Banu Umayya nursed his babyhood, no kin had he in Kalib or in-laws,

7. News of him will reach the Commander of the Faithful, it will grow to Abd al-Aziz in Egypt,
That Abu Marwan, your brother, has died, betrayed by no weakness or treachery,

8. The snakes of Iraq feared him, and those between Yamama and Cairo,
A land we prefer has taken him in, sheltering the orphaned flowers, and guarding the frontier,