1. I say, when death took our master
May God not banish the protector of people as an outcast

2. He who does not bid him farewell, it is out of inability or stinginess
And does not spend the night with roasting meat

3. My solace during wars when the horses stirred them up
Blood flows as if it were Africa

4. And the brave one who stabs forcefully
Is seen as one who flees, stirring up the water, cooked

5. With an eyelid like the rim of a well, cracked
Its sides seem split open with flesh

6. Made easy for orphans or a widow
And met the need of the neglected poor, scorched

7. Oh, my mother's agony, when he passed away and left me
The son of Salma, of pure honor, esteemed, passed away