مُعاوِيَ لَمْ أَكدْ آتيكَ تَهْوي

بِرَحْلي رادَةُ الأصْلابِ نابُ

Mu'awiya, I barely come to you growing weak

With my camel, the backs of the heroes grow tired

قَرِيحُ الظَّهْرِ يَفْرَحُ أَنْ يَراها

إذا وَضَعَتْ وِلّيتَها الغُرابُ

The saddle rubs into the back happily when it sees it

If the crow has laid its saddlecloth

تَجُوبُ الأرضَ نَحْوَكَ ما تَأَنَّى

إذا ما الأُكْمُ قَنَّعَها السَّرابُ

It roams the earth towards you without tiring

If the mirage has clothed the dune for it

وكُنْتَ المُرْتَجى وبِكَ اسْتَغاثَتْ

لتُنْعِشَها إذا بَخُلَ السَّحابُ

You were the one hoped for and in you she called out

To revive her if the clouds were stingy