لَو كُنتَ شاهِدَهُ وَقَد غَشِيَ الوَغى

يَختالُ في دِرعِ الحَديدِ المُسبَلِ

If you had seen him when the battle grew dark,

Strutting about in his coat of linked mail,

لَرَأَيتَ مِنهُ وَالقَضيبُ بِكَفِّهِ

بَحراً يُرِيقُ دَمَ الكُماةِ بِجَدوَلِ

You would have seen, while he gripped his staff,

A sea spilling the blood of warriors in streams.