غَلَتِ الشُرورُ وَلَو عَقَلنا صُيَّرَت

دَيَّةُ القَتيلِ كَرامَةً لِلقاتِلِ

Evil has prevailed, though we were wise, it was destined

The victim's blood-money brings honor to the killer

هَذي حِبالُ الشَمسِ وَهِيَ ضَعيفَةٌ

دامَت وَكَم أَبلَت حِبالَةَ خاتِلِ

These are the ropes of the sun, yet they are frail

They have lasted, how many ropes has the destroyer outlived