أيا عائبي الخرساءِ كفُّوا فلحظُها

هوَ السيفُ لا بلْ كالأسودِ الغوالبِ

O you who blame her, though she cannot speak, cease your blame, for her glance

Is a sword, nay, but as lions that prevail,

محا السيفُ أسطارَ البلاغةِ وانتحتْ

عليكمْ أسودُ الغابِ منْ كلِّ جانبِ

The sword has erased the lines of eloquence and rescued

Upon you all the lions of the thicket from every side.