وَأَدهَمٍ يَقَقِ التَحجيلِ ذي مَرحٍ

يَميسُ مِن عُجبِهِ كَالشارِبِ الثَمِلِ

A bright-bay, flicking-off the tent ropes, playfully prancing,

Swaying tipsily with pride, like a wine-filled flask,

مُطَهَّمٍ مُشرِفِ الأُذنَينِ تَحسَبُهُ

مُوَكَّلاً بِاِستِراقِ السَمعِ عَن زُحَلِ

With ears pricked forward, you’d think him charged to stealthily eavesdrop,

I rode him one night, traveling on him like stars overtaking planets,

رَكِبتُ مِنهُ مَطا ليلٍ تَسيرُ بِهِ

كَواكِبٌ تُلحِقُ المَحمولَ بِالحَمَلِ

When I launched arrows over his withers,

They slid over his shoulders and landed by his ankles.

إِذا رَمَيتُ سِهامي فَوقَ صَهوَتِهِ

مَرَّت بِهاديهِ وَاِنحَطَّت عَلى الكَفَلِ