وَصُيّابَةُ السَعدَينِ حَولي قُرومُها

وَمِن مالِكٍ تُلقى عَلَيَّ الشَراشِرُ

The tents of Sa'd are pitched around me,

And spears of Malik rain upon me.

فَلَيسوا بِقَومِ المُستَميتِ مَذَلَّةً

وَلَكِن لَنا بادٍ عَزيزٌ وَحاضِرُ

Yet they are not a people made to suffer shame;

But we have a mighty, ever-present lord.

وَكَم مِن رَئيسٍ قَد أَقادَت رِماحُنا

وَمِن مَلِكٍ قَد تَوَّجَتهُ الأَكابِرُ

How many a chief have our spears subdued!

How many a king have we crowned victorious!

بِمَن حينَ تَلقى مالِكاً تَتَّقي العَصا

وَما لَكَ إِلّا قاصِعاءَكَ ناصِرُ

You who, when you meet a king, fear his wrath—

You have none but your women to aid you.

فَإِن تَنتَفِق تَأخُذ بِرَأسَكَ حَيَّةٌ

وَإِن تَنحَجِر مِنّي تَنَلكَ المَحافِرُ

If you make peace, a viper seizes your head;

If you take refuge in a cleft, my pickaxes meet you.

أَتَسأَلُني لَن أَخفِضَ الحَربَ بَعدَما

غَضِبتُ وَشالَت بي قُرومٌ هَوادِرُ

Do you ask me to abate the battle, after

My wrath is roused and warriors' steeds surround me?

هِزَبرٌ تَفادى الأُسدُ مِن وَثَباتِهِ

لَهُ مَربِضٌ عَنهُ يَحيدُ المُسافِرُ

Hizbar whom the lion flees when he springs—

He has a lair travelers avoid.

إِذا ما رَأَتهُ العَينُ غُيَّرَ لَونُها

لَهُ وَاِقشَعَرَّت مِن عَراهُ الدَوائِرُ

When the eye sees him its color changes;

At the sight of him the courses quiver.

وَنَحنُ إِذا ما الحَيُّ شُلَّ سَوامُهُم

وَجالَت بِأَطرافِ الذُيولِ المَعاصِرُ

And when the steeds drag their leaden feet,

When warriors' swords flash at their wielders' sides,

نَشُنُّ جِيادَ البيضِ فَوقَ رُؤوسِنا

فَكُلُّ دِلاصٍ سَكُّها مُتَظاهِرُ

We launch the white-flanked mares above our heads,

Each seasoned warrior his ready blade unsheathing.

وَتَحمي وَراءَ الحَيِّ مِنّا عِصابَةٌ

كِرامٌ إِذا اِحمَرَّ العَوالي مَساعِرُ

Behind the host a band of heroes follows us,

Honored ones, their courage fire when the cauldrons blaze.

وَلَو كُنتَ حُرَّ العِرضِ أَو ذا حَفيظَةٍ

جَرَيتَ وَلَكِن لَم تَلِدكَ الحَرائِرُ

Had you true honor or a touchy pride,

You had fled, but base women bore you.