وَمِنand from فَلائِلِshreds هامِheads القَومِthe men مُحتَلِقاًshorn
وَمِن فَلائِلِ هامِ القَومِ مُحتَلِقاً
بِمُستَحىwith scraped-off strips مِنfrom أَمينِtough الجِلدِthe hide إِتعاباwearying toil
بِمُستَحى مِن أَمينِ الجِلدِ إِتعابا
And shorn shreds from the men's heads,
With strips scraped from tough hide, in wearying toil;
وَمِنand from سَرابيلِtunics أَهبابtatters مَضَرَّجَةbloodstained
وَمِن سَرابيلِ أَهباب مَضَرَّجَة
بِصائِكِwith sticky matter مِنfrom دَمِblood الأَجوافِthe innards قَدalready راباhad congealed
بِصائِكِ مِن دَمِ الأَجوافِ قَد رابا
And ragged tunics, drenched
In sticky blood from the innards, already congealed.
كَأَنَّas though أَثوابَclothes نَقّادa shepherd قُدِرنَwere tailored لَهُfor him
كَأَنَّ أَثوابَ نَقّاد قُدِرنَ لَهُ
يَعلوhe towers بِخَملَتِهاwith their shaggy pile كَهباءَdusky-gray هَدّاباthick-fringed
يَعلو بِخَملَتِها كَهباءَ هَدّابا
As though a shepherd's clothes had been tailored for him,
He looms in their dusky, shaggy pile.
كَأَنَّماas though كانَit was تَأييهاًa summoning cry لِيَأتيهمso he might come to them
كَأَنَّما كانَ تَأييهاً لِيَأتيهم
فيin كُلِّevery أَبعادِهِdriving him away يَدنوhe draws near تِقراباever closer
في كُلِّ أَبعادِهِ يَدنو تِقرابا
As though it were a summons for him to come to them,
Whenever they drove him away, he drew closer still.
وَثارَand rose إِعصارُa whirlwind هَيجاbattle بَينَهُمamong them وَجَلواand they fled
وَثارَ إِعصارُ هَيجا بَينَهُم وَجَلوا
يُضيءُglows مِحراثَهُمtheir fire-poker جَمراًembers وَأَحطاباand logs
يُضيءُ مِحراثَهُم جَمراً وَأَحطابا
A whirlwind of battle rose among them, and they fled,
Their fire-poker aglow amid embers and logs.
وَماand no مُغِبone returning at intervals بِثَنيat the bend of الحِنوal-Ḥinw مُجتَعِلٌmaking for himself
وَما مُغِب بِثَني الحِنو مُجتَعِلٌ
فيin الغَيلِthe thicket فيin ناعِمِtender البَرديpapyrus مِحراباa lair
في الغَيلِ في ناعِمِ البَردي مِحرابا
And no lion returning at intervals to al-Ḥinw's bend, making
A lair in the thicket, amid tender papyrus,
مقابِلَmatching الخَطوِthe footfalls فيin أَرساغِهِhis pasterns فَدَعٌcrookedness
مقابِلَ الخَطوِ في أَرساغِهِ فَدَعٌ
ضُبارِمٌmassive لَيسَnot فيin الظَلماءِthe darkness هَيّاباfearful
ضُبارِمٌ لَيسَ في الظَلماءِ هَيّابا
His footfalls matching, his pasterns crooked,
A hulking beast, no coward in the dark,
يَقوتُhe feeds فيهاtherein لِحامَflesh القَومِof the men شيعَتَهُhis brood
يَقوتُ فيها لِحامَ القَومِ شيعَتَهُ
وَردَينِtwo tawny cubs قَدalready آزَراthe two have strengthened حَصّاءَa short-haired lioness مسغاباfamished
وَردَينِ قَد آزَرا حَصّاءَ مسغابا
Feeding his brood there on the flesh of men—
Two tawny cubs who strengthen a short-haired, famished lioness—