كَلَتْ سيوفُ لَحْظِ مَنْ هَوَيْتُهُ

كَلَتْ سيوفُ لَحْظِ مَنْ هَوَيْتُهُ

وَضُرِّجَتْ مِنَ القلوبِ بالدَّمِ

وَضُرِّجَتْ مِنَ القلوبِ بالدَّمِ

The swords of my beloved’s glance grew dull,

The swords flashed in an instant against those I struck down

And were stained with blood from hearts.

And hearts were drenched with blood

فَسَنّها الكحّالُ حتّى فَتَكَتْ

فَسَنّها الكحّالُ حتّى فَتَكَتْ

بيضُ ظُباها بالسّوادِ الأَعظَمِ

بيضُ ظُباها بالسّوادِ الأَعظَمِ

So the kohl-applier honed them, until havoc was wreaked

So it sharpened them, the kohl, until they ripped open

By their white edges among the vast multitude.

The whiteness of their enemies with the greatest darkness