أَبا مَطَرٍ شَلَّت يَمينٌ تَفَرَّعَت

أَبا مَطَرٍ شَلَّت يَمينٌ تَفَرَّعَت

بِسَيفِكَ رأسَ ابنِ الحَواريّ مُصعَبِ

بِسَيفِكَ رأسَ ابنِ الحَواريّ مُصعَبِ

O Abu Matar, may the right hand that struck be palsied—

A shower whose right hand is paralyzed, branched out,

that struck with your sword the head of Mus‘ab, son of the Prophet’s Disciple.

With your sword the head of Ibn Al-Hawari Mus'ab,

وَلا ظَفرت كَفّاكَ بِالخَيرِ بَعدَهُ

وَلا ظَفرت كَفّاكَ بِالخَيرِ بَعدَهُ

وَلا عِشتَ إِلّا في تَبارٍ مُخَيَّبِ

وَلا عِشتَ إِلّا في تَبارٍ مُخَيَّبِ

May your two hands never attain any good after him,

And your palm has not won goodness after it,

and may you live only in ruin and bitter disappointment.

And you have not lived except in disappointing wars,

قَتَلتَ فَتىً كانَت يَداهُ بِفَضلِهِ

قَتَلتَ فَتىً كانَت يَداهُ بِفَضلِهِ

تَسُحّاِ سَحّ العارِضِ المُتَصَوِّبِ

تَسُحّاِ سَحّ العارِضِ المُتَصَوِّبِ

You killed a young man whose hands, in their generosity,

You killed a young man whose hands were with his generosity

would pour forth like a descending rain cloud’s torrent—

Smoothly hitching down the diverging cheeks,

أَغَرَّ كَضَوءِ البَدرِ صورَةُ وَجهِهِ

أَغَرَّ كَضَوءِ البَدرِ صورَةُ وَجهِهِ

إِذا ما بَدا في الجَحفَلِ المتكثِّبِ

إِذا ما بَدا في الجَحفَلِ المتكثِّبِ

bright-faced, his countenance like the light of the full moon

The light of the full moon misled you to his face image

whenever he appeared amid the densely massed army.

When it appeared among the curling tresses,