فَوِّق سِهامَكَ إِنَّ اللَهَ يَهديها

واِسلُل سُيوفَكَ فَالأَقدارُ تُمضيها

Aim your arrows high, for God guides their flight,

And sheathe your swords, for destiny rules their might.

ثِمارُ نُجحٍ سَحابُ الرَأي يُمطِرُها

وَأَنتَ تَغرِسُها وَالدينُ يَجنيها

Fruitful success, clouds of wisdom rain it down,

As you sow so shall glory garland your crown.

إِذا الكَتائِبُ نالَت في العِدى وَطراً

فَأَنتَ نائِلُهُ إِذ كُنتَ تَهديها

When regiments win a way to the foe,

You win the fray, guiding them as they go.

إِذا أَصابَت لَدى المَرمى النِبالُ فَما

تُعزى إِصابَتُها إِلّا لِراميها

If arrows strike the target one by one,

None question the archer was their journey done.

بُرءُ الوَزيرِ أَتى وَالفَتحُ يَعقُبُهُ

كَالشَمسِ جاءَت وَجاءَ الصُبحُ يَتلوها

Health to our minister! Bringing with it victory,

As comes the dawn after night - brightness can we see.

إِذا اِشتَكَيتَ رَأَيتَ الدينَ مُشتَكِياً

وَالبَأسَ وَالجودَ وَالدُنيا وَما فيها

If you complain you'll find religion is complaining too,

Chivalry, generosity - all things man can do.

لِذا رَأَيتَ الصَبا مُعتَلَّةً وَكَسا

شَمسَ الأَصيلِ اِصفِرارٌ مِن تَشَكّيها

So you see youth sallow faced and worn,

Pale sun obscured - its complaining self forlorn.

وَكَيفَ تُمرِضُكَ الدُنيا وَلا فَعَلَت

ياسَيِّداً تَمرَضُ الدُنيا فَتَشفيها

How can the world make you sick, make you ill,

When lord, it sickens itself to foster your will?

لَو أَنَّ شُهبَ الدَراري حارَبَتكَ إِذَن

خَرَّت بِسَعدِكَ مِن أَعلى مَراقيها

If your stars were to battle they would shake

And fall to bless you - no heights they'd not take.