وَشامِخٍ مِنَ الجِبالِ أَقوَدِ

فَردٍ كَيافوخِ البَعيرِ الأَصيَدِ

And a towering mountain, lofty and long,

Solitary, like the crown of a proud camel's head,

يُسارُ مِن مَضيقِهِ وَالجَلمَدِ

في مِثلِ مَتنِ المَسَدِ المُعَقَّدِ

Traversed through its narrows and rocky boulders,

Along paths twisted like strands of knotted rope.

زُرناهُ لِلأَمرِ الَّذي لَم يُعهَدِ

لِلصَيدِ وَالنُزهَةِ وَالتَمَرُّدِ

We visited it for a venture unseen before,

For the chase, for pleasure, and for daring sport,

بِكُلِّ مَسقِيِّ الدِماءِ أَسوَدِ

مُعاوِدٍ مُقَوَّدٍ مُقَلَّدِ

With every black hound, steeped in blood,

Experienced, leashed, and collared tight,

بِكُلِّ نابٍ ذَرِبٍ مُحَدَّدِ

عَلى حِفافَي حَنَكٍ كَالمِبرَدِ

With every fang sharp, honed, and keen,

Set within jaws that grind like a file.

كَطالِبِ الثَأرِ وَإِن لَم يَحقِدِ

يَقتُلُ ما يَقتُلُهُ وَلا يَدي

Like one seeking vengeance, though bearing no grudge,

Slaying his victims, yet owing no blood-price.

يَنشُدُ مِن ذا الخِشفِ ما لَم يَفقِدِ

فَثارَ مِن أَخضَرَ مَمطورٍ نَدي

He pursues in the fawn a prize he never lost,

Springing from green foliage, rain-washed and dewy,

كَأَنَّهُ بَدءُ عِذارِ الأَمرَدِ

فَلَم يَكَد إِلّا لِحَتفٍ يَهتَدي

Soft as the first down on a young man's cheek.

Yet the prey found its way only to its doom,

وَلَم يَقَع إِلّا عَلى بَطنِ يَدِ

وَلَم يَدَع لِلشاعِرِ المُجَوِّدِ

And fell nowhere but into the hunter's grasp.

It left for the skilled poet no further words,

وَصفاً لَهُ عِندَ الأَميرِ الأَمجَدِ

المَلِكِ القَرمِ أَبي مُحَمَّدِ

No description to offer before the glorious Prince,

The sovereign lord, the master, Abu Muhammad,

القانِصِ الأَبطالَ بِالمُهَنَّدِ

ذي النِعَمِ الغُرِّ البَوادي العُوَّدِ

Hunter of champions with the fine Indian blade,

Possessor of favors, radiant, manifest, and ever-renewed;

إِذا أَرَدتُ عَدَّها لَم تُعدَدِ

وَإِن ذَكَرتُ فَضلَهُ لَم يَنفَدِ

Were I to attempt to count them, they could not be numbered,

And were I to speak of his merit, it would never end.