ومنا الذي لا ينطق الناس عنده — Farazdaq

And among us is one in whose presence people do not speak,

but whose leave is sought and who is waited upon.

You see them seated around him, their eyes

downcast, their gazes never wandering.

And two houses: God's House, whose guardians we are,

and a lofty house on the heights of Iliya.

Ours, where the horizons of humankind meet,

are numbers matching the pebbles, and Khindif's mighty host.

When the people descend to al-Muhassab from Mina,

on the evening of Sacrifice Day, from where they stood at Arafat,

you see the people marching behind us whenever we march,

and if we signal to the people, they halt.

Thousands upon thousands of coats of mail and spears,

and horses like the first swarms of locusts, and infantry.

And if they ever break their pledge, we strike their necks

for the faith, until the one being won over comes forward.

For when you strive to catch up with Darim,

you are indeed hard-pressed, O Jarir, overburdened.

Do you seek what lies near the stars and above them

with tethers and a donkey whose back is peeling?

A vile, abject clan has denied Jarir this,

and a base reputation given over to disgrace.

When Darim sits with knees drawn up for me at the goal,

you race toward it, running with a swagger.

Each of us has a clan that rallies to his aid,

with their ancestral honors, until one sees who is left behind,

toward a finish, until it sets them apart,

and the goad pains whichever of us is baseborn.

I turned war against you; I, when weariness overtakes

a warrior, charge my foe again and wheel back.

You bewail Sa'd, while Sa'd remains settled

at Yabrin; among them are those who increase and double.