Sol 5.6

  1. We swept toward Syria, a vast, surging host,

    unsheathing against whoever rebelled a sword of might.

  2. Our favored steeds wheeled, neighing,

    with the deeds of jinn and the forms of men.

  3. And the sabers in our right hands kept

    making them sip death from no cup.

  4. Souls die at their appointed times,

    and they sever what lies between body and head.

Sol 5.6