فِدىً لَكُما رِجلَيَّ أُمِّي وَخالَتِي

فِدىً لَكُما رِجلَيَّ أُمِّي وَخالَتِي

غَداةَ الكُلابِ إِذْ تُحَزُّ الدَّوابِرُ

غَداةَ الكُلابِ إِذْ تُحَزُّ الدَّوابِرُ

May my mother and maternal aunt be your ransom, my two legs,

My feet are ransom for my mother and aunt

On the morning at al-Kulab, when heels were being severed.

On the morn when the hounds bayed ferociously

نَجَوتُ نَجاءً لَم يَرَ النَّاسُ مِثلَهُ

نَجَوتُ نَجاءً لَم يَرَ النَّاسُ مِثلَهُ

كَأَنِّي عُقابٌ عِندَ تَيمَنَ كاسِرُ

كَأَنِّي عُقابٌ عِندَ تَيمَنَ كاسِرُ

I escaped in a flight whose like people had never seen,

I escaped a deliverance the like of which none has seen

As though I were an eagle at Tayman, folding its wings to swoop,

As if I were a falcon at timely flight

خُدَارِيَّةٌ سَفْعَاءُ لَبَّدَ ريشَها

خُدَارِيَّةٌ سَفْعَاءُ لَبَّدَ ريشَها

مِنَ الطَّلِّ يَومٌ ذو أَهاضيبَ ماطِرُ

مِنَ الطَّلِّ يَومٌ ذو أَهاضيبَ ماطِرُ

Black-feathered and dusky, its plumage matted

A Khudari woman, her disheveled plumage

With dew by a rainy day of downpours.

Drenched by days of ceaseless rain

كَأَنَّا وَقَد حالَت حُذُنَّةُ دونَنا

كَأَنَّا وَقَد حالَت حُذُنَّةُ دونَنا

نَعَامٌ تَلاهُ فارِسٌ مُتَواتِرُ

نَعَامٌ تَلاهُ فارِسٌ مُتَواتِرُ

We were like—with Hudhunnah now standing between us and them—

As if we were ostriches thwarted by the village

Ostriches pursued by a horseman pressing relentlessly on.

With a horseman in hot pursuit

فَمَن يَكُ يَرْجُو فِي تَميمٍ هَوادَةً

فَمَن يَكُ يَرْجُو فِي تَميمٍ هَوادَةً

فَلَيسَ لِجَرْمٍ في تَمِيمٍ أَوَاصِرُ

فَلَيسَ لِجَرْمٍ في تَمِيمٍ أَوَاصِرُ

So whoever hopes for leniency from Tamim—

So whoever hopes for calm in Tameem

Jarm has no bonds of kinship with Tamim.

Has no cause in Tameem for stillness

وَلَمَّا سَمِعْتُ الخَيْلَ تَدعو مُقاعِساً

وَلَمَّا سَمِعْتُ الخَيْلَ تَدعو مُقاعِساً

تَطالَعَنِي مِن ثُغرَةِ النَّحْرِ جائِرُ

تَطالَعَنِي مِن ثُغرَةِ النَّحْرِ جائِرُ

And when I heard the cavalry calling upon Muqa‘is,

When I heard the horses calling for battle

My straying heart peered up at me from the hollow of my throat.

An oppressor peered out at me through the throat-slit

فَإِن أَستَطِع لا تَلتَبِسْ بي مُقاعِسٌ

فَإِن أَستَطِع لا تَلتَبِسْ بي مُقاعِسٌ

وَلا يَرَنِي مَبدَاهُمُ وَالمَحاضِرُ

وَلا يَرَنِي مَبدَاهُمُ وَالمَحاضِرُ

So, if I can help it, Muqa‘is shall not become entangled with me,

If I can, may no battle enmesh me

Nor shall their desert encampment or settled dwellings see me.

May its first light not espy me, nor the battlefield

وَلا تَكُ لِي حَدَّادَةٌ مُضَرِيَّةٌ

وَلا تَكُ لِي حَدَّادَةٌ مُضَرِيَّةٌ

إِذا ما غَدَت قُوتَ العِيَالِ تُبَادِرُ

إِذا ما غَدَت قُوتَ العِيَالِ تُبَادِرُ

Nor let me leave a mourning widow of Mudar,

May I have no ill-omened mourner woman

Going out in the morning, hastening to secure her dependents’ food.

When the food of dependents comes morning and night

يَقولُ لِيَ النَّهْدِيُّ إِنَّكَ مُرْدِفي

يَقولُ لِيَ النَّهْدِيُّ إِنَّكَ مُرْدِفي

وَكَيفَ رِدافُ الفَلِّ أُمُّكَ عابِرُ

وَكَيفَ رِدافُ الفَلِّ أُمُّكَ عابِرُ

The man of Nahd says to me, 'You will take me up behind you.'

The Nahdi says to me, you ride pillion

And how can you ride behind a fugitive? May your mother weep!

But how can the mare, your mother, be a conveyance

يُذَكِّرُني بِالرَّحمِ بَينِي وَبَينَهُ

يُذَكِّرُني بِالرَّحمِ بَينِي وَبَينَهُ

وَقَد كانَ في نَهْدٍ وَجَرمٍ تَدابُرُ

وَقَد كانَ في نَهْدٍ وَجَرمٍ تَدابُرُ

He reminds me of the kinship between us,

He reminds me of the womb-tie between us

Though Nahd and Jarm had turned their backs on each other.

Though of old in Nahd we were lands apart

وَلَمَّا رَأَيتُ الخَيلَ تَترَى أَثائِجاً

وَلَمَّا رَأَيتُ الخَيلَ تَترَى أَثائِجاً

عَلِمتُ بِأَنَّ اليَومَ أَحمَسُ فاجِرُ

عَلِمتُ بِأَنَّ اليَومَ أَحمَسُ فاجِرُ

And when I saw the cavalry coming in successive throngs,

When I saw the horses jostling in throngs

I knew that the day was fierce and ruthless.

I knew this day would be perilous and unjust