أأمَّ ابنِ ادريسٍ أَلَم يأنِكِ الذي

صَبَحنا ابنَ ادريس به فتقطَّرا

O mother of Idris, did it not grieve you

O mother of Ibn Idris, has word not reached you of what we brought upon Ibn Idris at dawn, casting him down?

That we became, through Ibn Idris, dripping blood

I wish you were beneath the two horizons to see him, when he was clad in hauberk and helm.

فليتكِ تحت الخافقين تَرَينَهُ

وقد جُعلت درعاً عليها ومِغفَرا

If only you could see him beneath the battling ranks

Ibn al-Muhayr and his kin desire Al-Aqiq, yet before Al-Aqiq lies death, flowing and red.

Made a shield and breastplate over him

And how can you seek Al-Aqiq when guarding it are the sons of chaste women, clad in full armor?

يريدُ العقيقَ ابنُ المُهَيرِ ورهطُهُ

ودونَ العقيقِ الموتُ ورداً وأحمرا

Ibn al-Muhayr and his band want al-'Aqiq

Below al-'Aqiq lie death, repulse, and redness

وكيفَ تريدون العقيقَ ودونَهُ

بنو المحصياتِ اللابساتِ السَّنَوَّرا

And how can you want al-'Aqiq, when below it

Are the grunting sword-girt threateners