كأنَّ كَتائِبَ البَاغينَ حَزْن

وبأسُ المُرتَضى ريح الشَّمالِ

As if battalions of tyrants were sorrow

And the might of the Chosen One was the north wind

أتَوْا جَهْلاً وَهُم نَقدٌ فأَلْفُوا

أسُوداً أعْدَمَتْهُم في الصّيالِ

They came in ignorance while being ready cash, so they bonded

With the pitch-black darkness that destroyed them in the twilight

فَيا شَرق الفَضاءِ بِهم شُروقاً

ويا لِزَوالِهِم عِنْدَ الزَّوالِ

Oh East of the skyline, with them are sunrises

And with their decline at sunset

أمَا وَحَياةِ يَحيَى مَا وَقَتْهُم

مِن المَوْتِ المَواضِي والعَوالِي

By the life of Yahya, when has their time

Saved them from death, the meadows and highlands?

نَحا ظُلَمَ الضّلالَة مِنْهُ بَرْقٌ

أحَدَّتْهُ القَبَائِل مِن هلالِ

The darkness of misguidance was lit up by a lightning bolt

Made sharp by the tribes from the crescent moon

أمَاجِدُ بينَ أنْسابٍ قِصَارٍ

تَفَاخُرُهم وبَيْن قَناً طوالِ

The glories between short lineages

Boasting among them and the tall spear