أَغرُّ تَغذو الغداة مِنهُ عَلى

أَغر قَد زادَ حُسنَهُ نزقه

The morning dew feeds his beauty,

Making the handsome one handsomer.

أَدهم تَعشي العُيون غرّتُه

تَحسَبُ لَيلاً وَوَجهَهُ شفقُهُ

His eyes are dark when night falls,

You'd think it was still night though dawn lit his face.

طالَت ثَلاث مِنهُ كَما

قصرت مِنهُ ثلاث وَزانَهُ شَدَقُهَ

Three marks are long on him,

Three short, marked by his cheek stripe,

ذو شَيبةٍ أَشبَعَت لَهُ حلكا

وَحافِرٍ ظَلَ مُشبَعاً زرقه

An old white forelock has fed on his brow,

His hoof remains sated with blueness.

تَمت مَقاديمه وَقَد سَتَرَت

فارمه مُقبِلاً بِهِ عُنقَهُ

His strides are over, though his neck still thrusts out

When urged on, his withers approaching his crupper.

إِذا سَما طَرفُهُ إِلى أَمَد

قَرَّبَ الشَدَ مِنهُ مسحِقُه

If his gaze shifts to the faraway,

He quickens the slow to a canter.

كَأَنَّهُ الريح حينَ تُرسِلُه

أَو لَمع بَرق إِذا بَدا طلقُهُ

You'd think him the wind when it sends him away

Or lightning's flash when his shoulder blades appear.

لَو أَنَّ يَوم الرِهان سابقه

داحِسُهُ جاءَ مُحرِزا سَبَقُه

If on race day his rival outstripped him at first,

He'd overtake him and gain the prize of the run.

يَنسابُ كَالأَين تَحتَ راكبه

وَتارَةً يَستَطيره عَنَقُه

He flows like a river beneath his rider

Then sometimes his neck makes him take to the air.

تَخالَهُ السَهم عِندَ حربَتِهِ

يَسبق لَحظَ العُيون ممترقُهُ

You'd think him an arrow alongside its notch

Outstripping the glances of eyes in its smoothness.

تَطيب أَعراقه لَدى نَسب

الخَيل وَفي الجَري طيبَ عرقُهُ

His forelegs are supple when mares are in season,

In running, his sweat is the best kind of scent.

رَحيب مَجرى الحُزام مجفره

أَجَش صَوتَ الصَهيل صَهصلقُه

Capacious the span of his belt and his shoulders,

Loud the ring of the bells on his bridle.