1. I knew the house had become strong with spears
Of polished blades made for striking endlessly

2. To you, O Commander of the Faithful, we complain
Of the hardships of fate and the non-Arabs

3. As if the hanging swords speak of it
Dripping with the snake’s venom and poison

4. When the faces of the people turn to frown
The clashing of sparkling swords with their poisons

5. So many deserters left you
And many discarded sandals without straps

6. They visit Yazid in his authority
With the honored and the despised

7. The delegations congratulate him when they come
For God’s victory and the great kingdom