وَلِي صاحِبٌ لا يَصحب الضّيمَ ربُّهُ

لَهُ في دِماءِ الدّارعين قِرابُ

I have a friend who does not befriend the unjust, though his Lord is their Lord too.

He sheds the blood of armored warriors, and is of close kin to them.

وَأَسمرُ عَسّالُ الكعوبِ سنانُهُ

رَسولُ المَنايا في يَديهِ كتابُ

Brown is the complexion of this energetic swordsman, whose teeth are like arrows.

He is the messenger of death, with a book in his hands.

إِذا ما وَجا أو داجَ قَرْن مُصمّمٍ

أعاد مشيبَ الوجهِ وهو شبابُ

Whenever a stubborn foe approaches or withdraws,

He restores the faded face of youth back to youthfulness.

ملانِيَ فخراً أنّكَ اليومَ والدي

وأنَّكَ طَوْدي والأنام شِعابُ

You make me proud today by being my father,

My pillar, while people are mere ruins.

أَلَستَ منَ القومِ الذينَ إذا دنَوْا

لِحَربٍ تَدانتْ أرْؤُسٌ ورقابُ

Are you not one of those men who when war draws near,

Heads and necks converge?

سيوفُهُمُ أَلحاظُهم وقناتهُمْ

سواعدُهمْ مهما اِستَحرَّ ضِرابُ

Their swords are their shields, their spears their forearms,

No matter how violent the striking.