1. Did word not reach you as the years grew
Of what the tribe of Ziyad endured

2. And their imprisonment by the Qurayshi
With coats of mail and swords of Indian steel

3. May you be rewarded, O spring, with evil
For the gambler is paid with hands

4. It was no act like that of Qays
Though you betrayed and offered no aid

5. You took the coat of mail from a man of honor
And feared no punishment on the day all shall be judged

6. Were it not for Sahmr of Ma’an, disgrace
Would have tripped me up in the wretched endeavor

7. Just as I endured at the hands of the sons of Badr
And their brothers in the battle of the ram

8. They boasted against me without true boast
And warded off his goal, the generous steeds

9. And said we will confound him with deceit
But where is deceit against a hundred steeds?

10. We disliked that defeat be marked against us
So we pushed back with the sharp Indian blade

11. Wait, O Hudhaifa, about my daughters
For the words are measured and calm

12. Whenever a wicked foe confronted me
I turned to him with a piercing poem

13. A piercing poem that shakes even the stalwart
Breaking them or wounding the innermost soul

14. And they turned to me with wicked deeds
Yet found me for them difficult to lead

15. Whenever fate assailed me with calamity
I braced myself with a poem to subdue it

16. Do not you know, O clan of Miqab
I am noble, no grasping scrounger

17. I circle as I circle, then take refuge
With a neighbor, like the neighbor of Abi Du’ad

18. To you, O Khayr ibn Qurt the goodness
And welcome the fresh and gentle winds

19. The protection of Abi Hilal suffices me
So cease your enmity against me

20. His steeds circle around me challenging
At Dhat al-Rimth like the winding streams

21. As if when I retreat to the son of Qurt
I have retreated to a shelter or bundled hay