ياO بَنيsons of الحارِثِal-Harith أَنتُمyou مَعشَرٌa people
يا بَني الحارِثِ أَنتُم مَعشَرٌ
زَندَكُمyour fire-stick وارٍspark-producing وَفيand in الحَربِbattle بُهَمindomitable warriors
زَندَكُم وارٍ وَفي الحَربِ بُهَم
O sons of al-Harith, you are a people:
O sons of Harith, you are a group
Your fire-stick sparks, and in battle you are indomitable warriors.
Whose glory is brilliant and valor eminent in war
وَلَكُمand you have خَيلٌhorses عَليهاupon them فِتيَةٌyoung men
وَلَكُم خَيلٌ عَليها فِتيَةٌ
كَأُسودِlike lions of الغيلِthe woodland يَحمينَthey guard الأَجِمthe thickets
كَأُسودِ الغيلِ يَحمينَ الأَجِم
And you have horses bearing young men,
With youths upon steeds ready to protect
Like lions of the woodland, guarding the thickets.
Like lions guarding their cubs when called to arms
لَيسَthere is not فيin الأَرضِthe earth قَبيلٌa tribe مِثلُكُمlike you
لَيسَ في الأَرضِ قَبيلٌ مِثلُكُم
حينَwhen يَرفَضُّscatter العِداthe enemies غَيرَexcept خُشَمKhusham
حينَ يَرفَضُّ العِدا غَيرَ خُشَم
There is no tribe on earth like you,
There is no tribe on earth like unto you
When foes scatter—save Khusham.
When the foe withdraws out of fear and dread
لَستُI am not لِلصُمَّةِof al-Summah إِنif لَمnot آتِكُمI come to you
لَستُ لِلصُمَّةِ إِن لَم آتِكُم
بِالخَناذيذِwith noble steeds تَبارىrace one another فيin اللُجُمthe bridles
بِالخَناذيذِ تَبارى في اللُجُم
I am no son of al-Summah if I do not come against you
I shall not be mute if you do not provide
With noble steeds racing one another in their bridles,
Choice horses competing in their prime
فَتَقَرَّso may find comfort العَينُthe eye مِنكُمfrom you مَرَّةًonce
فَتَقَرَّ العَينُ مِنكُم مَرَّةً
بِاِنبِعاثِat the rising of الحُرِّfreeborn women نَوحاًwailing تَلتَدِمbeating themselves in mourning
بِاِنبِعاثِ الحُرِّ نَوحاً تَلتَدِم
So that, for once, the eye may find comfort in you,
My eyes will frequently look to you
As freeborn women rise in lament, beating themselves in grief.
When the zeal of war kindles a blazing fire
وَتَرىand will see نَجرانُNajran مِنكُمof you بَلقَعاًa desolate wasteland
وَتَرى نَجرانُ مِنكُم بَلقَعاً
غَيرَexcept شَمطاءَa grey-haired woman وَطِفلٍand a child قَدalready يَتِمbecame orphaned
غَيرَ شَمطاءَ وَطِفلٍ قَد يَتِم
And Najran will find itself a wasteland, emptied of you,
And you will see the plains thronged with your warriors
Save a grey-haired woman and a child left orphaned.
No weaklings or orphans left behind
فَاِنظُروهاso await them كَالسَعاليlike she-ghouls شُزَّباًgaunt
فَاِنظُروها كَالسَعالي شُزَّباً
قَبلَbefore رَأسِthe turn of الحَولِthe year إِنif لَمnot أُختَرَمI am cut off by death
قَبلَ رَأسِ الحَولِ إِن لَم أُختَرَم
So await them, gaunt as she-ghouls,
So behold them like lions, their manes flowing
Before the year is out, if death does not cut me off.
Before the year is out, lest I lie mangled and torn
Claude 2 is inferred from the historical translator configuration. The original record does not identify its model.