لَعَمري لَقَد دَلّى إِلى اللَحدِ خالِدٌ

جِنازَةَ لا كابي الزِنادِ وَلا غُمرِ

By my life, Khaled was certainly carried to his grave,

A funeral without shrouds or perfume.

مُقيمٌ بِحَوّارينَ لَيسَ يَريمُها

سَقَتهُ الغَوادي مِن ثَويٍّ وَمِن قَبرِ

Settled in places not his own, places that grieve him not,

The valleys have watered him from peak and tomb.

تَصيحُ المَوالي أَن رَأَوا أُمَّ خالِدٍ

مُسَلِّبَةً تَبكي عَلى الماجِدِ الغَمرِ

The slave girls shriek when they see Khaled's mother

Bareheaded, weeping for the glorious hero.

إِذا جاءَ سِربٌ مِن نِساءٍ يَعُدنَها

تَجَرَّدنَ إِلّا مِن جَلابيبَ أَو خُمرِ

Whenever a flock of women come to console her,

They remove their robes and veils, nothing more.