الناس في الحرب شتى وهي مقبلة

ويستوون إذا ما أدبر القُبُلُ

People in war are diverse when it's brewing

Yet equal when backs are turned and ruins accrue

قُلَ بأمسيَّها طَبٌّ مولية

والعالمون بذي غدو بها قُلُلُ

Say of its evenings, sweet is nightfall’s dewing

But few can foretell what morn will imbue