1. When my tears overflow and stream down my cheeks,
And my longing pulls me towards the happy world,

2. I remind my people of their injustice towards me and their enmity,
And how little I was treated fairly, both near and far.

3. I built them glory with the sword, erect and towering,
But when their glory reached its peak, they demolished mine.

4. They fault my complexion for its blackness, yet
Their own wicked deeds are blacker than my skin.

5. Woe to my neighbors when I’m absent from them
And the distance grows long - what will they face after me?

6. Do you think, O Qais, that after their rejection
I fear the enemies or accept humiliation from rejection?

7. How can humiliation touch my heart and my sword
When the heart of the foe trembles, throbbing like thunder?

8. When has the sword been drawn in my hands on an evil day
That I made no distinction between old and young?

9. Glory lies only in my turban being wound
At its edges by an Indian blade, sharp and keen.

10. My two friends - when you are drunk after our revelry
Speak not of the ruins of Salma or of Hind;

11. Speak to me only of raiding steeds
And clouds of choking dust, gloomy and blackened;

12. For when the dust of war rises high
I cleave it with a wind sweeter than moisture.

13. My oregano is my spear, and the cups of my drinking spot
Are the skulls of proud chiefs, greedy for glory.

14. My swords scratch on the ground each day
Tracings of blood that spare the regretful their roses.

15. A sword's sheath cannot shame the blade
If on the day of battle it severs strongly.

16. By God, countless is the dust I have cut through
On a steed firm-flanked, evenly built.

17. I have charged through, driving off the horses
Till they fled like herds of wild cows to pasture.

18. You, ministers, have provoked a lion of the thicket
And did not distinguish falsehood from truth.

19. Say to a fortress, if it fears my enmity,
It will spend the night consumed by grief and passion.