أَقولُ لِلقانِصِ حينَ غَلَّسا

أَقولُ لِلقانِصِ حينَ غَلَّسا

وَالصُبحُ في النِقابِ ما تَنَفَّسا

وَالصُبحُ في النِقابِ ما تَنَفَّسا

I say to the hunter as he sets out before dawn,

I say to the hunter when he prowled

I speak to the huntsman as he sets forth in the pre-dawn gloom,

while dawn is still veiled and has not yet breathed,

And morning in the veil scarcely breathed

While the morning, behind its veil, has yet to draw a breath.

يَقودُ كَلباً لِلطَرادِ أَطلَسا

يَقودُ كَلباً لِلطَرادِ أَطلَسا

لَم يُلفِ عَن فَريسَةٍ تَحَوُّسا

لَم يُلفِ عَن فَريسَةٍ تَحَوُّسا

leading a dusky-coated dog out for the chase.

He leads a dog for hunting an Atlas mountain lion

He guides a dust-hued hound, primed for the pursuit,

He has never found it shrinking from any prey.

That never missed prey when it hid

One never found to waver or turn aside from prey.

ما رَشَقَ الظِباءَ إِلّا قَرطَسا

ما رَشَقَ الظِباءَ إِلّا قَرطَسا

وَرَّثَهُ النَجدَةَ مِمّا أَسَّسا

وَرَّثَهُ النَجدَةَ مِمّا أَسَّسا

It never darted at gazelles without hitting the mark.

He only hit the gazelles with arrows

He casts not at the gazelles but that he strikes the mark,

Courage was bequeathed to it from foundations laid

And inherited from his ancestors who founded

Inheriting a valor rooted in his very foundations—

أَبٌ وَخالٌ لَم يَزَل مُرَأَّسا

أَبٌ وَخالٌ لَم يَزَل مُرَأَّسا

تَخالُهُ العَينُ لِمَن تَفَرَّسا

تَخالُهُ العَينُ لِمَن تَفَرَّسا

by a sire and a maternal uncle, always held as chief.

A father and uncle who always led

From a sire and an uncle, ever crowned with command.

A discerning eye would take it for

His eye mistakes whoever he watched

The discerning eye perceives him, upon close gaze,

في حَومَةِ الطَرِّ هُماماً أَشوَسا

في حَومَةِ الطَرِّ هُماماً أَشوَسا

إِن هَمَّ بِالشِدَّةِ يَوماً غَلَّسا

إِن هَمَّ بِالشِدَّةِ يَوماً غَلَّسا

a valiant, fierce-eyed champion in the thick of the fray.

In the heat of the chase, a ferocious one

In the heat of the charge, a warrior fierce and bold.

If one day it resolves to charge, it sets out before dawn,

If he was intent one day on being hard

If he resolves upon a strike one day, he rises in the dark,

فَأَعدَمَ الخَزّانَ مِنهُ الأَنفُسا

فَأَعدَمَ الخَزّانَ مِنهُ الأَنفُسا

حَتّى لَقَد أَبكى القِنانَ الطُمُّسا

حَتّى لَقَد أَبكى القِنانَ الطُمُّسا

and so deprives the male hares of their lives,

He would execute the guards out of him the selves

Depriving the guardians of their very souls,

until it makes even the sightless hilltops weep.

To the point that he made the hidden one cry

Until he draws tears from the hidden, veiled ones.

بورِكتَ قَنّاصاً سَليلاً أَخنَسا

بورِكتَ قَنّاصاً سَليلاً أَخنَسا

فَكَم رَأَينا ضاوِياً مُهَلَّسا

فَكَم رَأَينا ضاوِياً مُهَلَّسا

Blessed are you, hunter, snub-nosed scion!

Blessed a silent hunter descendant

Blessings upon you, O hunter, scion of a lion-hearted line,

And how many a frail, emaciated man we have seen,

So how many have we seen destroyed, demolished

For how many a famished, withered wretch have we seen,

يَشكو إِذا لاقاكَ جَدّاً تَعِسا

يَشكو إِذا لاقاكَ جَدّاً تَعِسا

أَصبَحَ مِن كَسبِكَ قَد تَكَردَسا

أَصبَحَ مِن كَسبِكَ قَد تَكَردَسا

complaining, when he met you, of wretched fortune,

Complain when they meet you miserable

Lamenting his miserable fortune until he crossed your path,

who has now grown plump on your catch.

They have been, from your work, tousled

Who then, through your spoils, became laden with abundance.