قَد أَغتَدي وَاللَيلُ في اِدهِمامِهِ

لَم يَحسِرِ الصُبحُ دُجى ظَلامِهِ

I sally forth while night is wrapped within its deepest gloom,

Before the dawn has stripped away the shadows of its dark,

بِساهِمٍ يَمرَحُ في آدامِهِ

مُزَبرَجَ المَتنِ وَفي خِدامِهِ

Upon a lean steed, prancing proud within his trappings fine,

His back adorned with patterns rare, his legs in anklets white,

مِثلُ بَديعِ العَصبِ في إِحكامِهِ

كَأَنَّ خَطَّي جانِبَي لِثامِهِ

Precise as Yemeni striped cloth, woven with masterful art,

As if the lines that trace the sides beneath his bridle’s edge,

مِن مُؤخَرِ الخَدِّ إِلى قُدّامِهِ

خَطٌّ مُبينُ النَقشِ في إِعجامِهِ

Running from the cheek’s far curve down to the muzzle’s front,

Were like a script clearly engraved, distinct in every dot,

أَجراهُما بِالعودِ مِن أَقلامِهِ

لا يَأمَنَنَّ الوَحشَ مِن عُرامِهِ

Traced out by a skillful scribe with reeds among his pens.

Let no wild beast feel safe from him, nor trust his fierce assault,

يَعُدُّ يَومَ الدَجنِ مِن أَيّامِهِ

فَصارَ وَالمَقرورُ في أَهدامِهِ

He counts the gloomy, clouded day as his most favored time.

So he set forth, while shivering men lay wrapped within their rags,

قَبلَ اِنتِباهِ الحَرِّ مِن مَنامِهِ

اِبنُ فَلاةٍ ظَلَّ مِن آرامِهِ

Long before the slumbering heat had wakened from its sleep.

A wild bull of the open waste, dwelling among his herd,

ثُمَّ اِنتَحى في سَنَنَي جِمامِهِ

لِناشِطٍ يَدفَعُ عَن أَخلامِهِ

Then turned he with a surge of force, in fullness of his strength,

Towards a lively, spirited bull defending all his mates.

فَظَلَّ يُغري مُلتَقى أَخصامِهِ

مِن خَلفِهِ طَوراً وَمِن أَمامِهِ

He kept on inciting the clash upon the creature’s sides,

Now striking from the rear, and now confronting from the front.

كَأَنَّهُ في الكَرِّ وَاِقتِحامِهِ

ضَربُ فَتى شَيبانَ في إِقدامِهِ

As if, in wheeling to return and storming into fray,

He was the strike of a Shaiban youth, distinct in boldness shown,

مِن خيطَةِ النَحرِ وَمِن قُدّامِهِ

حَتّى هَوى يَفحَصُ في رُغامِهِ

Straight through the throat’s extended line, and striking from the front,

Until the beast collapsed and fell, pawing in the dust,

مُنقَلِبُ الرَوقِ عَلى أَزلامِهِ

يا لَكَ مِن غادٍ إِلى حِمامِهِ

His curved horns twisted back upon the limbs that held him up.

Oh, what a creature, going forth so early to his doom!