أَوزارُ حَربي أَلسُنُ العُذّالِ

وَالقَطعُ عِندَ تَقاطُعِ الأَقوالِ

My weapons of war are the tongues of the slanderers,

And my cutting remarks at the clash of arguments.

فَإِذا جَرى دَمعي فَذَلِكَ مِن دَمي

ماءٌ جَرى مِنّي لَكُم وَجَرى لي

So when my tears flow, that is my blood,

Water that ran from me for you and ran for me.

وَبي العُيونُ وَإِنَّها لَصَوارِمُ

وِبِيَ القُدودُ وَإِنَّها لَعَوالِ

In me are sharp eyes, and they are unsheathed swords,

In me are firm principles, and they are high goals.

فَمَتى أَقولُ بِسَلمِ مِن أَهوى وَما اِس

تحسَنتُ مِنهُ آلَةً لِقِتالي

So when can I say peace to what I passionately love,

When have I perfected from it a tool for my struggle?