رَحَلنا المَطايا مُدلَجينَ فَثَمَّرَت

بِكُلِّ فَتىً غَمرٍ إِلى المَوتِ سَبّاقِ

We rode on saddled steeds eagerly towards death

Each youth racing with fate to the grave

أَطِلنا السُرى حَتّى كَأَنَّ عُيونَها

زُجاجاتُ جاماتٍ أُديرَت عَلى الساقي

We travelled by night as if their eyes

Were crystal cups passing round the wine pourer