1. O abode of the banner whose purity time has worn,
Where souls and rain and years wash clean every rover,

2. Until her vestiges seem like a tattoo on the wrist
Of a maiden in precious gems or azure sapphire set.

3. The tribe and the slave-girls have deserted her hills,
And time has twisted her shape awry.

4. Though we dwell in her still, our band brotherly linked,
Without strife in our life or misery or regret.

5. White-armed damsels, robed in the gowns they don,
Charm with the grace of the fawn and the eyes of the doe.

6. You would think that her gums were of pearls or that
Her dog-teeth were gems which the showers make wet,

7. When she smiles through her veil's diaphanous folds.
The stick and the tent-pole and moon all forget.

8. The damsel turns from her when she travels in state,
Puzzling the mind of the stick that erects her pavilion and palanquin,

9. Her charm pleases the doe, and the buck gazes, amazed.
At her throat like marble or silvern sheen.

10. When she breathes soft and low, from her lips wafts a scent
Sweet as musk, aloes-wood, but muskier yet.

11. She turned from us, till her visit was rare. Her distance estranged her:
Our love could no more be relied on as true.

12. Yet I am he whose birth-place is known for pure deeds,
My honour is bright, without blemish or stain.

13. No untruth makes me doubt what endeavor I vow.
No weakness of will stops short of my aim.

14. I am sprung from a clan who if any man wronged
Their brother, assaulted their honour, or broke a sworn pact,

15. Whose perfume is generosity, faith their cloak,
Who repay with reward, who return good for ill,

16. Who do not despair though defeated this day,
Who take pride in no triumph o'er vanquished foes.

17. At the call of the cause, their response is to rise.
In disaster, they bear it with patience and calm.

18. Their houses our ancestor Kahlan son of Qahtan built
As high as the stars in the zone of the moon.

19. How oft in the highlands white tents have we struck,
Conquering mighty kings, or captives borne off!

20. How oft have we left, when the plains grew too hot,
The vulture to tear at the corse of the brave!

21. Tayy in might bowed to us. Their arrogance flew.
Bakr son of Wa'il obeyed. And we subdued Muzr.

22. Say to Nuza, your best and your truest word speaks;
Most piercing the point that is proper and plain.

23. If you boast of your prophet, more right have we here
To vaunt us of glories than all of your kin.

24. You expelled him, we gave him an honoured abode;
You made warriors march to attack his fair home.

25. Our lances from you and your malice defend.
White-armed, ever conquest awaits their brave stroke.

26. Would you drive out a prophet from home, kinsmen, and birth?
At his mission the verses from heaven did flow.

27. You hemmed him with warriors, brandishing arms,
While we the sparks from him guarded and screened.

28. Our bright swords kept you back from his face like a fence,
Till he won in Yathrib esteem, honour and rank.

29. His praise in the Book is a treasure made ours.
What praise can surpass this renown!

30. How many who warred with him, banished him too,
Are the likes of us, kinsmen who guarded his track!

31. Ere this we were ennobled by glories which made
Man bow under their weight, their bright burden of fame.

32. Enough! We are lords of mankind. The rest?
Let no man compare himself to our line!

33. God gave us an honour no shadow can mar.
Not the sun's self, nor moon-beam it dims or makes less.

34. Whom God abases none ever can raise.
Nought is accomplished save what His decrees bless.