لا زُرتِ يا زَوراءُ كَفَّ حُلاحِلٍ

يَومَ الهِياجِ وَلا رَمَيتِ نِبالا

O Zawra’ neither did you visit when passions ran high

Nor did you hurl a spear on the day of battle

نازَعتِ عِندَ الرَميِ مُقلَةَ جُؤذُرٍ

تُصمي القُلوبَ وَما تُغِبُّ نِزالا

You wrestled the curved bow of Ju’thur

That turns hearts to stone though no blood it drew

وَقَرَعتِ ما يَحمي بِها حَسَداً لَهُ

لَمّا بَدا بَدراً وَلُحتِ هِلالا

And you smote what he enviously protected

When the full moon rose and the new crescent gleamed

فَغَدَت جُمانَةُ سِنِّهِ مَرجانَةً

وَغَدا قُراحُ رُضابِهِ جِريالا

So his crooked old age turned straight

And the gashes of his blows sang like bells