لا صَيدَ إِلّا بِوَتَر

أَصفَرَ مَجدولٍ مُمَر

No prey except by bowstring

A yellow braided bowstring

إِن مَسَّهُ الرامي نَخَر

ذي مُقلَةٍ تَبكي مَدَر

If the archer touches it, it hums

With a weeping, round-eyed mother

صَنعَةُ بارٍ مُقتَدِر

دامَ عَليها فَمَهَر

The work of a capable, steadfast rain

It rained on her, so she became refined

فَجِئنَ أَمثالَ الأُكَر

لَم يَختَلِفنَ في الصُوَر

Then the likes of polished stones came

They did not differ in forms

بِصِغَرٍ وَلا كِبَر

أَشبَهِ طينٍ بِحَجَر

Neither small nor big

Resembling clay and rock

يودَعنَ أَمثالَ السُرَر

ثُمَّ يَطِرنَ كَالشَرَر

They reside in bed-like abodes

Then they fly off like embers

إِلى القُلوبِ وَالثُغَر

لَمّا غَدَونَ بِسَحَر

To hearts and throats

When they marched at dawn

وَاللَيلُ مُسوَدُّ الطُرَر

يَأخُذُ أَرضاً وَيَذَر

And the night of dark hills

Takes some land and neglects some

وَلاحَ صُبحٌ وَاِشتَهَر

جاءَت صُفوفاً وَزُمَر

And morning dawned bright

Rank upon rank and troop upon troop came

سَوانِحاً بيضَ الغُرَر

يَطلُبنَ ما شاءَ القَدَر

With white, apple-shaped cheeks

Seeking what fate had decreed

رَوضاً جَديداً وَنَهَر

وَهُنَّ يَسأَلنَ النَظَر

A new meadow and river

And they ask to look

ما عِندَهُ مِنَ الخَبَر

فَقامَ رامٍ فَاِبتَدَر

To see what news there is

So a skilled archer stood up

وَتَّرَ قَوساً وَحَسَر

إِذا رَمى الصَفَّ اِنتَثَر

And strung a bow and pulled

When he shot the ranks, they scattered

هَوَّلَ عَوداً قَد نَخَر

فَبَينَ هاوٍ مُنحَدِر

He bent a stick he had notched

Between one plummeting down

وَصائِحٍ عَلى خَطَر

وَذي جِناحٍ مُنكَسِر

And another crying danger

And another with a broken wing

وَاِرتاحَ مِن حُسنِ الظَفَر

وَمَسَّهُ جِنُّ الأَشَر

And he relaxed, pleased with his gain

And a shooting star touched him

وَقُلنَ إِذ حَقَّ الأَثَر

وَجَدَّ رَميٌ فَاِستَمَر

And they said, upon its passing

And the shooting continued

ما هَكَذا رَميُ البَشَر

صارَ حَصى الأَرضِ مَدَر

This is not a mortal's shooting

The earth's pebbles became embers