لِلَّهِ بَيطارٌ بِحمصٍ ما رَنا

لِلَّهِ بَيطارٌ بِحمصٍ ما رَنا

إِلّا وَسَلَّت مُقلَتاهُ مخذَما

إِلّا وَسَلَّت مُقلَتاهُ مخذَما

What a farrier in Homs! Never did he gaze

God has a horse in Homs that will not neigh

but his two eyes unsheathed a keen-edged sword.

Except to have its two eyelids scratched

أَنحى عَلى سَردِ النَعالِ فَخلتُهُ

أَنحى عَلى سَردِ النَعالِ فَخلتُهُ

بَدراً يَصوغُ مِنَ الأَهِلَّةِ أَنجُما

بَدراً يَصوغُ مِنَ الأَهِلَّةِ أَنجُما

He bent over piercing horseshoes, and I imagined him

Leaning on the row of sandals I left it

a full moon fashioning stars from crescents.

A full moon that fashions stars out of rings