بَني مَطَرٍ حالَفْتُمُ الذُّلَّ أَنْ سَمَتْ

بَني مَطَرٍ حالَفْتُمُ الذُّلَّ أَنْ سَمَتْ

إِلَيْنا اللَّيالي بِالخُطوبِ الطَّوارِقِ

إِلَيْنا اللَّيالي بِالخُطوبِ الطَّوارِقِ

Sons of Matar, you made a pact with abasement because there rose

O clan of rain, you have sworn allegiance to disgrace,

against us the nights, bearing calamities that strike by night.

As the nights lead against us the attacking catastrophes.

فَآبَكُمُ هَلاّ فَزِعْتُمْ إِلى ظُباً

فَآبَكُمُ هَلاّ فَزِعْتُمْ إِلى ظُباً

تَلَمَّظُّ ما بَيْنَ الطُّلَى والْمَفارِقِ

تَلَمَّظُّ ما بَيْنَ الطُّلَى والْمَفارِقِ

So, may you be fatherless! Why did you not turn for aid to sword-edges

So it made you yelp, and you fled to the hyenas

that lick hungrily at what lies between necks and hair-partings?

Who snap their jaws between the highlands and the lowlands.

وَكَيْفَ تَقَلَّدْتُمْ وَأَنتمْ أَذِلَّةٌ

وَكَيْفَ تَقَلَّدْتُمْ وَأَنتمْ أَذِلَّةٌ

حَمائِلَ تُوهي مِنْكُمُ كُلَّ عاتِقِ

حَمائِلَ تُوهي مِنْكُمُ كُلَّ عاتِقِ

And how did you don, abject as you are,

How could you wear the necklaces while you are so weak,

sword-baldrics that weaken every shoulder among you,

Bearing litters that confound you, each and every one?

وَطَأْطَأْتُمُ أَعْناقَكُمْ عِنْدَ مَحْفِلٍ

وَطَأْطَأْتُمُ أَعْناقَكُمْ عِنْدَ مَحْفِلٍ

تَرُومُ الرَّذايا فِيه شَأْوَ السَّوابِقِ

تَرُومُ الرَّذايا فِيه شَأْوَ السَّوابِقِ

and bow your necks at a gathering

You bow your necks at a gathering

where worn-out camels aspire to match the front-runners?

Where they circulate the wine cups in rivalry.

فَما لَكُمُ يا فَرَّقَ اللهُ بَيْنَكُمْ

فَما لَكُمُ يا فَرَّقَ اللهُ بَيْنَكُمْ

مُرِمِّينَ في العَزَّاءِ خُرْسَ الشَّقاشِقِ

مُرِمِّينَ في العَزَّاءِ خُرْسَ الشَّقاشِقِ

So what ails you—oh, may God scatter you apart—

What has happened to you - whom God has scattered,

silent in adversity, your throat-sacs mute?

Casting into helplessness the broken ones among you?