وَآلُ الزُبَيرِ بَنو حُرَّةٍ

مَرَوا بِالسُيوفِ صُدوراً خِنافا

The sons of Zubayr, men of valor,

Thrust with their swords through many a chest.

سَلِ الجُردَ عَنهُم وَأَيّامَها

إِذا اِمتَعَطوا المُرهَفاتِ الخِفافا

Ask the coats of mail about them and their days

When they don mails light and swift to wear.

يَموتونَ وَالقَتلُ داءٌ لَهُم

وَيَصلونَ يَومَ السِيافِ السِيافا

They die, and killing is an ill to them

On the day they mingle sword with sword.

إِذا فَرَّجَ القَتلُ عَن عيصهم

أَبى ذلِكَ العيصُ إِلّا اِلتِفافا

When the strife parts from their helmets,

Those helmets refuse to leave but wrap the closer.

مَطاعيمُ تُحمَد أَبياتُهُم

إِذا قُنِّع الشاهقاتُ الطخافا

Their verses are gems when recited,

When the tall warriors don their mail.

وَأَجبَنُ من صافِرٍ كلبُهُم

إِذا قَرَعتُهُ حَصاةٌ أَضافا

More dangerous than a howling wolf of theirs

If a pebble is cast at it ever so lightly.