بَرَّحَ بِالعَينَينِ كُلُّ مُغيرَةٍ

بَرَّحَ بِالعَينَينِ كُلُّ مُغيرَةٍ

أَسِنَّتُها مِن قانِئِ الدَمِ تَرذُمِ

أَسِنَّتُها مِن قانِئِ الدَمِ تَرذُمِ

Every raiding troop wrought havoc at al-ʿAynayn,

Every sorrowful woman weeps with her eyes,

Its spearheads dripping crimson blood.

Her tongue muttering from the blood shedder.

أُمارِسُ فيها اِبنَي قُشَيرٍ كِلَيهِما

أُمارِسُ فيها اِبنَي قُشَيرٍ كِلَيهِما

بِرُمحِيَ حَتّى بَلَّ عامِلَهُ الدَمُ

بِرُمحِيَ حَتّى بَلَّ عامِلَهُ الدَمُ

There I fight both sons of Qushayr,

I make both my thin sons combat,

With my spear, until blood has soaked its upper shaft.

With my spear, until his blood flows.

أُمارِسُ خَيلاً لِلهُجَيمِ كَأَنَّها

أُمارِسُ خَيلاً لِلهُجَيمِ كَأَنَّها

سَعالٍ بِأَيديها الوَشيجُ المُقَوَّمُ

سَعالٍ بِأَيديها الوَشيجُ المُقَوَّمُ

I fight the horsemen of al-Hujaym, as though they were

I make horses for the attacker, as if they were

She-ghouls with straightened spear-shafts in their hands.

Coughing, in their hands the bent spear.