ومُهتَبلٍ بالجوِّ والأرضِ مُسرع

إلى كُلِّ ما استنهضته غير غافل

Rushing with ardour through the air and earth

Toward all that roused him, never negligent,

تقارب منهُ خَلقُهُ فكأنّهُ

علاةُ حديدِ حُذّفت بالمعاولِ

His people drew near him, as though he were

The anvil's heart smitten by hammers fell.

تكفّرَ في موضُونةٍ تحتَ لينها

خشُونةُ ظفرٍ كالرّماحِ الذّوابلِ

His harshness underneath his gentleness

Was smoothed, as warrior claws sheathed in soft wool.

وفاضَت فلم يفضُل لهُ مَن جميعهِ

بها غيرُ ساقيهِ لعقدِ الجلاجِل

He overflowed; of all he had, none was left

Except his butler binding cups with chains.

ولمّا ثني في الأُفقِ صورةَ نفسهِ

على قَطواتٍ في الوهادِ عواقلِ

And when he bent his figure on the horizon,

On hillocks in the valleys like linked pearls,

تجلى عليها مُقبلاً فكانّما

رماها بصَعقٍِ أو بنجمِ المُقاتلِ

He shone upon them coming, till it seemed

As though he struck them down with bolt or star of war.

كأن يديهِ فيهما قوسُ نادفٍ

فتُدني من الأوتارِ ريشَ الحواصلِ

As if his hands were, on the curving bow,

The feathered shafts drawn near the cord's end taut.