إِذا اِعتَزَلوا كانوا مُلوكاً أَعِزَّةً

وَفي الحَربِ أَعوانُ المَنايا الغَواشِمِ

When they withdraw, they are proud kings,

Yet in war, they are fierce allies of doom.

لَهُم أَوجُهٌ غُرٌّ تُنَمنَمُ في الوَغى

كَأَن قَد تَغَشَّتها أَكُفُّ الرواقِمِ

They have faces, pale as the moon, glowing in battle

As if veiled by hands that wield swords.

كَأَنَّ كلومَ الطَّعنِ وَالضَّربِ بَهجَةً

عَلى الوَجَنات الغُرِّ نَقشُ الدَّراهِمِ

It seems the wounds of their stabs and blows are joys

Etched on their pale cheeks like coins’ engravings.