|That young man is the light of the eye of the tribe,|
Whose youth is without blemish, and blow is deadly.
In battles he is fiercer than wild lions,
In peace, he is like a beautiful Tartar gazelle.
Nothing strange if his ecstasy is contagious,
A single spark is enough for a garden.
God has given him kingly pomp
For his faqr has impetuosity and valour like Ali’s.
Don’t look down upon his poverty:
This poor man has pride of place among us all.