أَيَعجَبُ الناسُ أَن أَضحَكتُ خَيرَهُمُ

خَليفَةَ اللَهِ يُستَسقى بِهِ المَطرُ

Do people wonder that I laughed at their best man,

The vicegerent of God, with whom rain is sought?

وَما نَبا السَيفُ مِن جُبنٍ وَلا دَهَشٍ

عِندَ الإِمامِ وَلَكِن أُخِّرَ القَدَرُ

The sword quailed not from cowardice or awe,

In the Imam's presence, but fate was deferred.

وَلَو ضَرَبتُ عَلى عَمدٍ مُقَلَّدَةٍ

لَخَرَّ جُثمانَهُ ما فَوقَهُ شَعَرُ

Had I struck deliberately with a flaunted sword,

His corpse would have fallen, shorn of hair.

إِذاً تَدَهدَأَ عَنهُ حينَ أَضرِبُهُ

كَما تَدَهدى عَنِ الزُحلوفَةِ الحَجَرِ

Then it would have shuddered away from him, when I struck him,

As granite shudders away from the pickaxe.

ما يُعجِلُ السَيفُ نَفساً قَبلَ ميتَتِها

جَمعُ اليَدَينِ وَلا الصِمصامَةُ الذَكَرُ

The sword hastens no soul before its death.

Neither clasping the hands, nor invoking fate.