وَهَل داعٍ فَيُسمَعَ عَبدَ عَمروٍ

لِأَخرى الخَيلِ تَصرَعُها الرِماحُ

Is there any friend whose prayer is heard for the slave of Amr

For another cavalry whose spears make them fall

فَلا وَأَبيكَ لا أَنسى خَليلي

بِبَدوَةَ ما تَحَرَّكَتِ الرِياحُ

No, by your father, I do not forget my friend

In the desert, no matter how much the winds blow

وَكُنتَ صَفِيَّ نَفسي دونَ قَومي

وَوُدِّيَ دونَ حامِلَةِ السِلاحِ

You were the choice of my soul over my people

And my love over the bearer of weapons