وَكانَت لِعَباسٍ ثَلاثٌ نَعدُّها

إِذا ما جناب الحيِّ أَصبَحَ أَشهبا

Abbas had three swift mounts, which we number,

That face dawn with a coat the hue of ember.

فسلسلةٌ تنهى الظَلومَ وَجفنَةٌ

تُباحُ فَيَكسوها السِنامَ المزغَّبا

A chain-link bridle checks their headlong pace,

A saddle-cloth they wear in battle’s clamor.

وَحلةُ عَصبٍ ما تَزالُ مُعدّةً

لعارٍ ضَريكٍ ثَوبُهُ قَد تَهبَّبا

And a third, a steed unbridled, ready stands

His rider’s raiment ripped by sword and lance.