أَبَعدَ بُشرٍ أَسيراً في بُيوتهم

يَرجو الخَفارَةَ مِنّي آلُ ظَلّامِ

A captive beyond hope in their dwellings,

Seeking mercy from me, O tribes of darkness!

فَلَن أُصالِحهُم ما دُمتُ ذا فَرَسٍ

وَاشتَدَ قَبضاً عَلى السَيلانِ إِبهامي

Never shall I make peace with them while I have a horse,

And a firm grip clasps the hilt of my blade.

فَإِنَّما الناسُ ياللَهِ أُمُهُمُ

أَكائِلُ الطَير أَو حَشوٌ لِأَرجامِ

People are but flocks, O Lord, led to slaughter,

Carrion for wild beasts or stuffing for arrows.

هُم يَهلَكونَ وَيَبقى بَعدُ ما صَنَعوا

كَأَنَّ آثارَهُم خُطَّت بِأَقلامِ

They perish while their deeds remain

As though traced by pens on parchment.

تَعدو الذِئابُ عَلى من لا كِلابَ لَهُ

وَتَتَقي مَربَضَ المُستَنفِرِ الحامِيِ

Wolves prey on him who is without dogs,

And shun the lair of the watchful protector.