1. أَلا دَرى الصِّيدُ مِن قَومِي الصَّناديدُ

    أَنِّي أَسير بِدارِ الذُّلِّ مَصفودُ

    Do the lionhearted men of my people, those stalwart chiefs, not know

    that I am a captive in humiliation’s house, bound in fetters?

  2. لا أَبسُطُ الخَطوَ إِلا ظَلَّ يَقبِضُهُ

    كِبلٌ كَما اِلتَفَّتِ الحَيّاتُ مَعقودُ

    I never stretch my stride but it remains clutched tight

    by a fetter, knotted like serpents coiled.

  3. وَقَد تَأَلَّبَ أَقوامٌ لِسَفكِ دَمي

    لا يَعرِفُ الفَضلُ مَأواهُم وَلا الجودُ

    And men have banded together to spill my blood,

    though virtue knows not their dwelling, nor does generosity:

  4. ثَلاثَةٌ مِن بَني حُرٍّ وَلا سَعِدوا

    وَواحِدٌ مِن بَني حَوراءَ مَجحودُ

    three are of Banu Hurr—may they never prosper—

    and one of Banu Hawra, disowned.