لَقَد فَرَّ الرَعيل وَمَن يَقودُ

وَما نَفَع الدلاص وَلا الحَديدُ

The allies have fled, and their leader too,

Of no use were their coats of mail or their swords.

وَخابَ رَجاؤُهُم فيما اِبتَغوه

وَأَصلَح شَأَنكَ الرَأي السَديد

Their hopes for what they sought have failed,

While your wise judgement has set things right.

فَلا يُغررك زَحفَهُم عَلَينا

فَكَهلهم سَواءٌ وَالوَليد

Let not their advance upon us deceive you -

Old and young are equal to them.

كِبارٌ في العُيون صِغار حَزم

سُروجَهُم لَدى الهَيجا مُهود

Grown men with childish resolve,

Their saddles lie discarded in the fray.

يُظنون المُنون لَها جَناح

تَطير بِهِ إِذا خَفق البُنود

They think death has wings

That will lift her when the banners shake.

وَما سَمَعوا صَليل ظِباك إِلّا

تَصافَحَت النَواصي وَالصَعيد

But they never heard the clash of your swords,

Except when the hilltops and ground met.

سَرَيت تَظلك العُقبان فيهُم

وَتَحتَ رَكابِكَ إِزدَحَم الأُسود

You crept upon them as vultures do,

And under your feet the lions swarmed.

وَكُلُ شاكِرٍ صُنع الأَيادي

وَما فَعل الصَوارم وَالجُنود

Every thankful being extols what hands have made,

Not what swords and soldiers have done.

فَرِفقاً أَيُّها المَولى قَليلاً

فَإِن القَوم كُلَهُم عَبيدُ

So go gently, my lord, just a little,

For these people are all your slaves.

وَنَزه مِن دِمائَهُم سُيوفاً

بِهامات المُلوك لَها غُمود

Keep your blades unsullied by their blood,

Their hilts are fit for kings' palms.

كَفى تَقطيب وَجهك مِن مُبيد

يَذوب مَهابة مِنهُ الجَليد

Your scowling face is enough to melt them,

And the frozen flee in terror from it.

بَني ذَهل رَجَعتُم بَعدَ عزّ

وَعَيشكَم المَذَلة وَالخُمود

O clan of Dhahal, after glory you have returned degraded,

Accustomed to disgrace and submission.

فَلا زِلتُم كَما شاءَ المَواضي

وَلا زالَ الأَمير كَما بَريد

You remain as the fates desired,

While the prince remains resolute.