يا جُملُ إِنكِ لَو شَهِدتِ بَسالَتي

يا جُملُ إِنكِ لَو شَهِدتِ بَسالَتي

في يَومِ هَولٍ مُسدِفٍ وَعَجاجِ

في يَومِ هَولٍ مُسدِفٍ وَعَجاجِ

O Juml, had you witnessed my valor

O she-camel, if you had witnessed my valor

On a day of darkening terror and swirling dust,

On a dreadful, tumultuous day of clamor

وَتَقَدُّمي لِليثِ أَرسَفُ موثَقاً

وَتَقَدُّمي لِليثِ أَرسَفُ موثَقاً

حَتّى أَكابِرَهُ عَلى الأَحراجِ

حَتّى أَكابِرَهُ عَلى الأَحراجِ

And my advance against the lion, shuffling in bonds,

And my charging against the lion, fettered,

Until I grappled with him in dire straits,

Until the elders, in the thickets, I discomfited

لَعَلِمتِ إِنّي ذو حِفاظٍ ماجِدٌ

لَعَلِمتِ إِنّي ذو حِفاظٍ ماجِدٌ

مِن نَسلِ أَقوامٍ ذَوي أَبراجِ

مِن نَسلِ أَقوامٍ ذَوي أَبراجِ

You would surely have known me a noble guardian of honor,

You would have known I am a protector, glorious,

From the lineage of peoples possessed of towers.

Of a folk’s lineage, erecting edifices inglorious

جَهمٌ كَأَنَّ جَبينَهُ لَمّا بَدا

جَهمٌ كَأَنَّ جَبينَهُ لَمّا بَدا

طَبقُ الرَحا مُتَفَجِّرُ الأَثباجِ

طَبقُ الرَحا مُتَفَجِّرُ الأَثباجِ

He was grim-faced; his brow, when he appeared, seemed

Jahm, his brow appears when first seen

A millstone's disk; his shoulders bulged.

Like a torrent of death, bursting, careening

يَرنو بِناظِرَتَينِ تَحسَبُ فيهِما

يَرنو بِناظِرَتَينِ تَحسَبُ فيهِما

لَمّا أَجالَهُما شُعاعَ سِراجِ

لَمّا أَجالَهُما شُعاعَ سِراجِ

He gazed with two eyes in which you would think you saw,

He charges with two eyes, you’d think in their glow

When he turned them, the beam of a lamp.

When he glares with them, the gleam of a lamp’s throw

شُثنٌ براثِنُهُ كَأَنَّ نُيوبَهُ

شُثنٌ براثِنُهُ كَأَنَّ نُيوبَهُ

زُرقُ المَعابِلِ أَو شَذاةُ زِجاجِ

زُرقُ المَعابِلِ أَو شَذاةُ زِجاجِ

His claws were thick and rough; his fangs seemed

Doughty, his fangs as if the sheen

Blue broad arrowheads, or a splinter of glass.

Of Indian blades or the shards of a bottle green

وَكَأَنَّما خيطَت عَلَيهِ عَباءَةٌ

وَكَأَنَّما خيطَت عَلَيهِ عَباءَةٌ

بَرقاءُ أَو خِلَقٌ مِنَ الديباجِ

بَرقاءُ أَو خِلَقٌ مِنَ الديباجِ

And it was as though a cloak had been sewn upon him,

As if embroidered on him is a cloak,

Mottled, or a worn-out length of brocade.

Gleaming white or a garb made of brocade

وَلَهُ إِذا وَطِئَ المَهادَ تَنَقُّضٌ

وَلَهُ إِذا وَطِئَ المَهادَ تَنَقُّضٌ

وَلِثَني طَفطَفهِ نَقيقُ دَجاجِ

وَلِثَني طَفطَفهِ نَقيقُ دَجاجِ

And when he trod the ground, his joints crackled,

And when he settles on the bed, he tosses about

And the flexing of his flank sounded like clucking hens.

And the twittering of chicks in the flutter of his snout

وَعَلِمتُ أَنّي إِن أَبَيتُ نِزالَهُ

وَعَلِمتُ أَنّي إِن أَبَيتُ نِزالَهُ

أَنّي مِنَ الحجّاجِ لَستُ بِناجِ

أَنّي مِنَ الحجّاجِ لَستُ بِناجِ

And I knew that if I refused to fight him,

And I knew if I refused his challenge a fight,

I would not escape al-Hajjaj.

I'd not be, among the brave, in their ranks upright

قِرنانِ مُحتَضَرانِ قَد رَبَّتهُما

قِرنانِ مُحتَضَرانِ قَد رَبَّتهُما

أُمُّ المَنِيَةِ غَيرُ ذاتِ نِتاجِ

أُمُّ المَنِيَةِ غَيرُ ذاتِ نِتاجِ

Two rivals facing death, already reared

Two spears poised together, reared by

By the mother of death, who bears no offspring.

The mother of death, no longer siring progeny

فَمَشَيتُ أَرسُفُ في الحَديدِ مُكَبَّلاً

فَمَشَيتُ أَرسُفُ في الحَديدِ مُكَبَّلاً

بِالمَوتِ نَفسي عِندَ ذاكَ أُناجي

بِالمَوتِ نَفسي عِندَ ذاكَ أُناجي

So I walked, dragging my fetters, shackled in iron,

So I walked, heavily fettered in iron,

At that moment, I whispered to my soul of death.

With death itself at that point my confiding

وَالناسُ مِنهُم شامتٌ وَعِصابَةٌ

وَالناسُ مِنهُم شامتٌ وَعِصابَةٌ

عَبَراتُهُم بي في الحُلوقِ شَواجي

عَبَراتُهُم بي في الحُلوقِ شَواجي

And among the people some gloated, while a group

While people among them gloated and peered

Had tears for me caught in their throats.

Their expressions at me in their throats speared

لَمّا نَزَلتُ بِحُصِّ أَزبَرَ مُهصِرٍ

لَمّا نَزَلتُ بِحُصِّ أَزبَرَ مُهصِرٍ

لِلقِرنِ أَرواحَ العِدى مَسحاجِ

لِلقِرنِ أَرواحَ العِدى مَسحاجِ

When I faced a short-coated, thick-maned crusher

When I descended at the mound's base depressed

Of rivals, who stripped his enemies of their souls,

To deliver the spears' spirits with death's bequest

نازَلتُهُ إِنَّ النِزالَ سَجِيَّتي

نازَلتُهُ إِنَّ النِزالَ سَجِيَّتي

إِنّي لمَن سَلَفي عَلى مِنهاجِ

إِنّي لمَن سَلَفي عَلى مِنهاجِ

I fought him; combat is indeed my nature.

My wont is to descend into combat timeless

I am indeed on the path of my forebears.

For I follow the path of my noble, peerless ancestors

فَفَلَقتُ هامَتَهُ فَخَرَّ كَأَنَّهُ

فَفَلَقتُ هامَتَهُ فَخَرَّ كَأَنَّهُ

أَطُمٌ هَوى مَتقوضَ الأَبراجِ

أَطُمٌ هَوى مَتقوضَ الأَبراجِ

So I split his skull, and he fell as though he were

So I split his skull, and he fell as if

A fortress crashing down, its towers crumbling.

A pillar collapsed, its summits now adrift

ثُمَّ اِنثَنَيتُ وَفي قَميصي شاهِدٌ

ثُمَّ اِنثَنَيتُ وَفي قَميصي شاهِدٌ

مِمّا جَرى مِن شاخِبِ الأوداجِ

مِمّا جَرى مِن شاخِبِ الأوداجِ

Then I turned back, my shirt bearing witness

Then I turned, and on my shirt bore witness

To what had flowed from the spurting jugular veins.

To what had passed, its bloodied fibers business

وَلَبَأسُكَ اِبنَ أَبي عَقيلٍ فَوقَهُ

وَلَبَأسُكَ اِبنَ أَبي عَقيلٍ فَوقَهُ

وَفَضلتَهُ بِخَلائِقٍ أَزواجِ

وَفَضلتَهُ بِخَلائِقٍ أَزواجِ

And surely your might, son of Abu Aqil, surpasses his,

But your prowess, son of Abi Uqayl, transcends it

And you have outdone him in manifold qualities.

And excels it in manifold ways explicit

وَلَئِن قَذَفتَ بي المَنِيَّة عامِداً

وَلَئِن قَذَفتَ بي المَنِيَّة عامِداً

إِنّي لِخَيرِكَ بَعدَ ذاكَ لَراجِ

إِنّي لِخَيرِكَ بَعدَ ذاكَ لَراجِ

And even if you deliberately cast me to death,

And if death casts me with intent disposed

I surely hope for your kindness even after that.

After that, for your goodness, I am composed

عَلِمَ النِساءُ بِأَنَّني ذو صَولَةٍ

عَلِمَ النِساءُ بِأَنَّني ذو صَولَةٍ

في ساحَةِ الإِلجامِ وَالإِسراجِ

في ساحَةِ الإِلجامِ وَالإِسراجِ

The women know that I am fierce in attack

The women learned I own ferocity

On the field of bridling and saddling.

On the battleground of courage and capacity

عَلِمَ النِساءُ بِأَنَّني لا أَنثَني

عَلِمَ النِساءُ بِأَنَّني لا أَنثَني

إِذ لا يَثِقنَ بَغَيرَةِ الأَزواجِ

إِذ لا يَثِقنَ بَغَيرَةِ الأَزواجِ

The women know that I do not turn back

The women learned I do not waver

When they cannot trust their husbands' protective zeal.

For they trust not the jealousy of husbands