وَصُيّابَةُ السَعدَينِ حَولي قُرومُها

وَصُيّابَةُ السَعدَينِ حَولي قُرومُها

وَمِن مالِكٍ تُلقى عَلَيَّ الشَراشِرُ

وَمِن مالِكٍ تُلقى عَلَيَّ الشَراشِرُ

And the elite of the two Sa'd clans, their chieftains, surround me;

The tents of Sa'd are pitched around me,

And Malik's men cast their wholehearted devotion upon me.

And spears of Malik rain upon me.

فَلَيسوا بِقَومِ المُستَميتِ مَذَلَّةً

فَلَيسوا بِقَومِ المُستَميتِ مَذَلَّةً

وَلَكِن لَنا بادٍ عَزيزٌ وَحاضِرُ

وَلَكِن لَنا بادٍ عَزيزٌ وَحاضِرُ

For they are not the kin of one who grovels in abasement;

Yet they are not a people made to suffer shame;

But ours are mighty folk, nomadic and settled.

But we have a mighty, ever-present lord.

وَكَم مِن رَئيسٍ قَد أَقادَت رِماحُنا

وَكَم مِن رَئيسٍ قَد أَقادَت رِماحُنا

وَمِن مَلِكٍ قَد تَوَّجَتهُ الأَكابِرُ

وَمِن مَلِكٍ قَد تَوَّجَتهُ الأَكابِرُ

And how many a chieftain our spears have slain in requital,

How many a chief have our spears subdued!

And many a king whom the great nobles had crowned!

How many a king have we crowned victorious!

بِمَن حينَ تَلقى مالِكاً تَتَّقي العَصا

بِمَن حينَ تَلقى مالِكاً تَتَّقي العَصا

وَما لَكَ إِلّا قاصِعاءَكَ ناصِرُ

وَما لَكَ إِلّا قاصِعاءَكَ ناصِرُ

With whose help will you ward off the staff when you meet Malik?

You who, when you meet a king, fear his wrath—

And you have no protector but your main burrow-hole.

You have none but your women to aid you.

فَإِن تَنتَفِق تَأخُذ بِرَأسَكَ حَيَّةٌ

فَإِن تَنتَفِق تَأخُذ بِرَأسَكَ حَيَّةٌ

وَإِن تَنحَجِر مِنّي تَنَلكَ المَحافِرُ

وَإِن تَنحَجِر مِنّي تَنَلكَ المَحافِرُ

So if you escape through the hidden exit, a snake will seize your head;

If you make peace, a viper seizes your head;

And if you hide from me in your burrow, the spades will reach you.

If you take refuge in a cleft, my pickaxes meet you.

أَتَسأَلُني لَن أَخفِضَ الحَربَ بَعدَما

أَتَسأَلُني لَن أَخفِضَ الحَربَ بَعدَما

غَضِبتُ وَشالَت بي قُرومٌ هَوادِرُ

غَضِبتُ وَشالَت بي قُرومٌ هَوادِرُ

Do you ask me? I will not abate the war after

Do you ask me to abate the battle, after

I have grown angry and bellowing chieftains have borne me aloft.

My wrath is roused and warriors' steeds surround me?

هِزَبرٌ تَفادى الأُسدُ مِن وَثَباتِهِ

هِزَبرٌ تَفادى الأُسدُ مِن وَثَباتِهِ

لَهُ مَربِضٌ عَنهُ يَحيدُ المُسافِرُ

لَهُ مَربِضٌ عَنهُ يَحيدُ المُسافِرُ

A mighty lion, from whose leaps the lions recoil;

Hizbar whom the lion flees when he springs—

He has a lair from which the traveler turns aside.

He has a lair travelers avoid.

إِذا ما رَأَتهُ العَينُ غُيَّرَ لَونُها

إِذا ما رَأَتهُ العَينُ غُيَّرَ لَونُها

لَهُ وَاِقشَعَرَّت مِن عَراهُ الدَوائِرُ

لَهُ وَاِقشَعَرَّت مِن عَراهُ الدَوائِرُ

Whenever the eye sees him, its color changes

When the eye sees him its color changes;

Because of him, and hair-whorls bristle at his presence.

At the sight of him the courses quiver.

وَنَحنُ إِذا ما الحَيُّ شُلَّ سَوامُهُم

وَنَحنُ إِذا ما الحَيُّ شُلَّ سَوامُهُم

وَجالَت بِأَطرافِ الذُيولِ المَعاصِرُ

وَجالَت بِأَطرافِ الذُيولِ المَعاصِرُ

And we, when the clan's grazing herds are driven off,

And when the steeds drag their leaden feet,

And young maidens dart about with trailing robe-hems,

When warriors' swords flash at their wielders' sides,

نَشُنُّ جِيادَ البيضِ فَوقَ رُؤوسِنا

نَشُنُّ جِيادَ البيضِ فَوقَ رُؤوسِنا

فَكُلُّ دِلاصٍ سَكُّها مُتَظاهِرُ

فَكُلُّ دِلاصٍ سَكُّها مُتَظاهِرُ

Pour fine bright coats of mail over our heads;

We launch the white-flanked mares above our heads,

Thus every polished coat has overlapping rings.

Each seasoned warrior his ready blade unsheathing.

وَتَحمي وَراءَ الحَيِّ مِنّا عِصابَةٌ

وَتَحمي وَراءَ الحَيِّ مِنّا عِصابَةٌ

كِرامٌ إِذا اِحمَرَّ العَوالي مَساعِرُ

كِرامٌ إِذا اِحمَرَّ العَوالي مَساعِرُ

And a band of us guards the rear of the clan:

Behind the host a band of heroes follows us,

Noble men, kindlers of war when the spear-shafts redden.

Honored ones, their courage fire when the cauldrons blaze.

وَلَو كُنتَ حُرَّ العِرضِ أَو ذا حَفيظَةٍ

وَلَو كُنتَ حُرَّ العِرضِ أَو ذا حَفيظَةٍ

جَرَيتَ وَلَكِن لَم تَلِدكَ الحَرائِرُ

جَرَيتَ وَلَكِن لَم تَلِدكَ الحَرائِرُ

And had you been of unsullied honor, or possessed of protective zeal,

Had you true honor or a touchy pride,

You would have raced—but freeborn women did not bear you.

You had fled, but base women bore you.