إِنَّ عَلى أَهوى لَأَلأَمَ حاضِرٍ

حَسَباً وَأَقبَحَ مَجلِسٍ أَلوانا

The tribe of Hima have my heart's disdain;

Their camp's unlovely, sordid, and profane!

قَبَحَ الإِلَهُ وَلا أُحاشي غَيرَهُم

أَهلَ السُبَيلَةِ مِن بَني حِمّانا

God frown upon them! None with me agrees

To rid of them this sweet abode of ease.

مُتَوَسِّدونَ عَلى الحِياضِ لُحاهُمُ

يَرمونَ عَن فُضَلائِها فُضلانا

Lolling at ease, upon their haunch, the louts

Debar the poor and worthy from their haunts:

وَبِحَسبِ قَومِكَ إِن شَتَوا مَطلولَةٌ

شَرعَ النَهارِ وَمَذقَةٌ أَحيانا

And did thy clan not come to my relief,

Helpless I were in face of shame and grief.