إِنَّ اِبنَ سَلمى فَاِعلَموا عِندَهُ دَمي

وَهَيهاتَ لا يُرجى اِبنُ سَلمى وَلا دَمي

The son of Salma, beware, with him lies my blood

Alas! No hope with the son of Salma, nor my blood

يُحِلُّ بِأَكنافِ الشِعابِ وَيَنتَمي

مَكانَ الثُرَيّا لَيسَ بِالمُتَهَضِّمِ

He wanders in the folds of valleys, belonging to none

In a place not frequented, with thorns overgrown

رَماني وَلَم يَدهَش بِأَزرَقَ لَهذَمٍ

عَشِيَّةَ حَلّوا بَينَ نَعفٍ وَمَخرَمِ

He attacked me, no fear in him, fierce and bold

In the evening they pitched their tents, midst ruins untold