وَكَم لاقَيتُ ذا نَجَبٍ شَديدٍ
تَسيلُ بِهِ النُفوسُ عَلى الصُدورِ
How many a man of noble mettle, formidable, have I faced—
at whose hand souls spill forth over breasts—
إِذا الحَربُ العَوانُ بِهِ اِستَهامَت
وَجالَ فَذاكَ يَومُ قَمطَريرُ
when battle, seasoned and fierce, grew mad for him
and he wheeled through the fray: that is a grim and lowering day.
Sol 5.6