الشاتِمِيَّ وَمِن دوني ذُرا حَضَنٍ

وَالفِعلُ مُختَلِبٌ وَالقَولُ مَأثورُ

The slanderers and beneath me worthless specks of dust,

Whilst deeds in disarray and words are but borrowed talk,

أَنتُم مَجاهيلُ حَرّامونَ ثاوِيَكُم

وَفي الحُروبِ مَقاليعٌ عَواويرُ

You are the wretched fools, the damned and ruined band,

Yet in frays you charge with fractured, fragile sticks.

لا تَبرَحونَ عَلى أَبوابِ مَلأَمَةٍ

تَعازَرونَ بِها ما لَألَأَ الفَورُ

And you ne'er cease to haunt the doors of flightiness;

Through bickering you prop what time demands undoing.

كَأَنَّكُم نَبَطِيّاتٌ بِمَزرَعَةٍ

قُشرُ الأُنوفِ دَراديرٌ مَآديرُ

You are like peasant girls amidst some field of ruins

With pierced nose and lips - bleating, mindless herd;

تَرى صُدورَهُمُ سُمراً مُحَشَّرَةً

وَفي أَسافِلِهِم نَشرٌ وَتَشميرُ

You see them hunched with shoulders bared for fighting;

Below, their legs spread out, and shirts tucked up.

إِذ هُم شَعاريرُ بِالأَشرافِ تَبطَحُهُم

زُرقُ الأَسِنَّةِ وَالبيضُ المَباتيرُ

For they are devils with their noble fellows, laid to waste

By tongues so blue and teeth as white as full moons.

تَدعو أَواخِرَهُم أَولاهُمُ جَزَعاً

وَالخَيلُ مُكرَهَةٌ وَالمَوتُ مَحذورُ

Their rearguards cry out to those ahead in deep despair

As horses flinch from death, which no man can avoid,

وَالمُقصِياتُ إِذا ما العُسرُ دارَ بِنا

وَالمَكرُماتُ إِذا دارَ المَياسيرُ

And noble steeds, when war weighs hard upon us,

Turn tail, whilst valiant mares press on into the fray.

وَالحامِلاتُهُمُ في كُلِّ مُعتَرَكٍ

فيهِ إِسارٌ وَتَقتيلٌ وَتَعفيرُ

They bear them into every bloody, gory fight

Where bonds and slaughter and disgrace abide.