لعمري وما عمري على بهين

لعمري وما عمري على بهين

لبئس الفتى المدعو بالليل حاتم

لبئس الفتى المدعو بالليل حاتم

By my life—and my life is no trifle to me—

By my life, though my life is of little worth

Wretched indeed is the young man summoned at night: Hatim,

Evil is the youth called by nightfall Hatem

غداة أنى كالثور أحرج فاتقى

غداة أنى كالثور أحرج فاتقى

بجبهته أقتاله وهو قائم

بجبهته أقتاله وهو قائم

That morning he [came?], like a bull driven to bay, and warded off

Tomorrow when like a bull I rush wildly

His adversaries with his forehead, as he stood.

With my forehead I smite him as he stands

كأن بصحراء المريط نعامة

كأن بصحراء المريط نعامة

تبادرها جنح الظلام نعائم

تبادرها جنح الظلام نعائم

As though an ostrich in the desert of al-Murayt,

As if in the plain of Marrith an ostrich

Which other ostriches race as darkness falls,

Whose wings are overtaken by the wings of night

أعارنك رجليها وهافي لبها

أعارنك رجليها وهافي لبها

وقد جردت بيض المتون صوارم

وقد جردت بيض المتون صوارم

Had [lent you?] her legs and her fluttering wits,

She offered to you her legs and bent her neck

While white-backed, keen-edged swords had been drawn.

And bared the white swords of her feathers