وَكَأَنَّما أولى الصَباحِ وَقَد بَدا

فَوقَ الطُوَيلِعِ راكِبٌ مُتَلَثِّمُ

As though at dawn's first light a rider veiled

Stands silhouetted on the distant hills,

وَأَذاعَ بِالظَلماءِ فَتقٌ واضِحٌ

كَالطَعنَةِ النَجلاءِ يَتبَعُها الدَمُ

His spear-thrust echoing, distinct and clear,

Through the dark night, the blood in its wake spills