وَخَيْلٍ كَالذِّئابِ على مَطاها
أُسُودٌ خَاضَتِ الغَمَراتِ شُوسُ
Steeds like wolves—upon their backs
fierce lions who have plunged through battle’s engulfing perils—
بِيَوْمٍ قَاتِمِ الطَّرَفَيْنِ فيهِ
يَشُوبُ طَلاقَةَ الوَجْهِ العُبوسُ
on a day dark at either end, in which
a scowl clouds the face’s open cheer.
وَنَحْنُ نُلاعِبُ الأَسَلاتِ حَتّى
تَجيشَ إِلى تَراقِيها النُّفوسُ
And we sport with spearpoints until
souls surge up to the collarbones;
وَنَتْرُكُ في النَّجيعِ الوِرْدَ صَرعَى
كَشَرْبِ الخَمْرِ غَالَهُمُ الكُؤوسُ
and leave the red ones felled in flowing gore,
like drinkers of wine whom the cups have overcome.
فَسالَ بِهمْ على العَلَمَيْنِ وادٍ
فَواقِعُهُ إِذا زَخَرَ الرُّؤوسُ
Then, bearing them, a valley flooded over all mankind,
and when it swelled, its bed was heads.
Sol 5.6