وَمِن عَجَبٍ قَد قَلَّدوكَ مُهَنَّداً

وَمِن عَجَبٍ قَد قَلَّدوكَ مُهَنَّداً

وَفي كُلِّ لَحظٍ مِنكَ سَيفٌ مُهَنَّدُ

وَفي كُلِّ لَحظٍ مِنكَ سَيفٌ مُهَنَّدُ

And how strange that they have girded you with a sword of Indian steel,

It's wondrous how they've given you a sharp sword,

While in every glance of yours lies a sword of Indian steel.

In every moment you're a sharpened blade.

إِذا أَنتَ قَد جَرَّدتَهُ أَو غَمَدتَهُ

إِذا أَنتَ قَد جَرَّدتَهُ أَو غَمَدتَهُ

قَتَلتَ بِهِ وَاللَحظُ لا يَتَعَمَّدُ

قَتَلتَ بِهِ وَاللَحظُ لا يَتَعَمَّدُ

Whether you have drawn it or sheathed it,

Whether you've drawn it out or sheathed its edge,

You slay with it, though the glance acts without intent.

With it you slay, though not with preconceived intent.