قِفا يا خَليلَيَّ الغَداةَ وَسَلِّما

وَعوجا فَإِن لَم تَفعَلا اليَومَ تَندَما

Stand awhile, my friends, this morn, and greet

The wasteland, or you will regret this day

عَلى طَلَلٍ لَو أَنَّهُ كانَ قَبلَهُ

تَكَلَّمَ رَسمٌ دارِسٌ لَتَكَلَّما

If only its ruined dwellings could but speak

Time-ravaged art and traces would convey

أَيا عِزِّنا لا عِزَّ في الناسِ مِثلُهُ

عَلى عَهدِ ذي القَرنَينِ لَن يَتَهَدَّما

Our glory none can equal, nothing equals

Its like, not even days of Two-Horned King

إِذا خَطَرَت عَبسٌ وَرائِيَ بِالقَنا

عَلَوتُ بِها بَيتاً مِنَ المَجدِ مُعلَما

When tribe of 'Abs by me in battle wheel

I build with it a monument to cling

إِذا ما اِبتَدَرنا النَهبَ مِن بَعدِ غارَةٍ

أَثَرنا غُباراً بِالسَنابِكِ أَقتَما

Our onslaught done, we leave but dusty haze

Behind their ramparts, darker than the gloom

أَلا رُبَّ يَومٍ قَد أَنَخنا بِدارِهِم

أُقيمُ بِهِم سَيفي وَرُمحي المُقَوَّما

Oh, mansions, we by you would spend our days

With upright lance and smoothed, well-balanced spear

وَما هَزَّ قَومٌ رايَةً لِلِقائِنا

مِنَ الناسِ إِلّا دارُهُم مُلِئَت دَما

Let enemies unfurl their flags to meet

In war, and blood-soaked be their homes entire

وَإِنّا أَبَدنا جَمعَهُم بِرِماحِنا

وَإِنّا ضَرَبنا كَبشَهُم فَتَحَطَّما

Our lances broke their ranks in disarray

And smashed their bulls, breaking their strength away

بِكُلِّ رَقيقِ الشَفرَتَينِ مُهَنَّدٍ

حُسامٍ إِذا لاقى الضَريبَةَ صَمَّما

The Indian blades our bright swords sunder all

Well-balanced, striking coats of mail, and shatter

يُفَلِّقُ هامَ الدارِعينَ ذُبابُهُ

وَيَفري مِنَ الأَبطالِ كَفّاً وَمِعصَما

The helms of armored men, their fragments scatter

As heroes' wrists and forearms smashed fins flutter