لَقَد أَزمَعَت لِلبَينِ هِندٌ زِيالَها

وَزَمّوا إِلى إِلى أَرضِ العِراقِ جِمالَها

The doe longs for the faraway pastures

And they headed to the land of Iraq and its beauty

فَما ظَبيَةٌ أَدماءُ واضِحَةُ القَرا

تَنُصُّ إِلى بَردِ الظِلالِ غَزالَها

No doe with reddish fur and prominent horns

Seeks the coolness of shade more than her fawn

تَحُتُّ بِقَرنَيها بَريرَ أَراكَةٍ

وَتَعطو بِظِلفَيها إِذا الغُصنُ طالَها

She lowers her horns to the burbler’s call

And raises her ears when a branch rustles

بِأَحسَنَ مِنها مُقلَةً وَمُقَلَّداً

وجيداً إِذا دانَت تَنوطُ شِكالَها

More lovely than her when look or ornament is concerned

And more graceful when she draws near to rest