يا صَريعَ الأَكُف صُدغُكَ أَمسى
خَلقاً مِثلَ طَيلَسانِ ابنِ حربِ
O you felled by palms, your temple has become
O slain one with calloused palms, your temple
worn-out, like Ibn Harb’s shawl.
Is now of a nature like Tailsan, son of War.
أَنتَ في الحانِ في أمانٍ وَسلمٍ
وهوَ في مَعمَعانِ حربٍ وَضربِ
You are in the tavern, in safety and peace,
You are in melodies, in safety and peace,
while it is in the thick of war and blows.
While he is in the din of war and blows.
قَفاكَ محمدُ نِعمَ السِلاح
إذا التَفَّ بِالعَسكرِ العَسكَر
Your nape, Muhammad—what a fine weapon,
Your nape was protected by Muhammad, prime arms -
when army closes with army.
When armies mass against armies en masse.
وَصُدغُكَ إن نَقَرَ الناقِرون
عَليهِ يَرِنُّ وَلا يُكسَرُ
And your temple, if the tappers tap
And your temple, if detractors detract
upon it, rings out and is not broken.
Upon it, it resounds but does not break.
Sol 6.1