تلك الخمائل فاتئد يا حادي

Those thickets, so slow down, o camel-driver, and sing, for you are within the meadows of my country.

Echo songs of gentle joy into the hearing of history and the nomadic dwellers.

Pluck the beauty of the lush garden, and the exquisite melodies of the nightingales.

Rejoice and chirp like the birds when they warble in a grove echoing with visitors.

Look upon the land of beauty, adorned by the glory of ancestors and the pride of grandchildren.

The people within it glow with freshness, as though their happiness were the song of the caravan guide.

Staying there has grown sweet for every citizen, who sang as no singing bird has ever sung.

And fluttering high, the much-loved banner rose, gazing toward every virtue and correct path.

Its people found bliss and sang out, overtaken by floods of joy and the brightness of feasts.

The land of noble deeds ascended across the world, taking the seat of honor at the assembly's head.

O leader of the procession marshaled for greatness, all hail to the symbol of soldiers and commanders.

You enlisted your soul for noble deeds, o sovereign, thus reaching the reach of the blazing star.

You honored humanity as a generous person who has gathered abundant glories from the world of virtues.

You adorned your age with the freshest wisdom, so that everyone lives in ease and happiness.

You built an era of might in a blissful homeland, a flowing spring for all who come to drink.

You strove in the pursuit of righteous struggle, crowned with glory—go forth in safety, sustained for jihad.

You hold the finest place in the people's hearts, for often have they seen in you the brilliance of the ancients.

You are the one called upon when the chords of guidance cry out to lions among its pioneers.

You have built, o Sheikh of Glory, a towering edifice, immense in virtues, with deep-set tent pegs.

Where are those towering heights of bygone eras, when their inhabitants lacked all guidance?

Where are the treasuries in those city quarters, where Korah once dwelt alongside the cohorts of ‘Ād?

Wealth passes away, and families are enveloped by a flood of forgetfulness and sleepless nights.

Yet memory endures as an exemplar for whoever fears the Lord of creatures and Creator of the nomad.

The poetic impulse overflowed from a sincere soul who knows true love—a love unlike Qays's passion for Su‘ād.

He seeks thereby to emulate the master of his people with the pearls of praise and verse.

He hopes thereby for divine approval from a Lord, a King, and the Seal of the Messengers of the Lord of servants.

For the pleasure of God is mirrored in the pleasure of the bold youth who follows the guiding Prophet.

You brought bliss to your people, o Prince, so remain for them the finest pillar in the realm of high status.

You sheltered neighbors and defended their domains with an overflowing wealth too vast to count.

The Gulf is a wellspring of might; from its two shores you reached greatness with sound judgment.

Behold those pillars of the minarets, shining within it for every traveler coming and going.

Our ancestors built the edifice of greatness, so why have we strayed from the ways of the forebears?

Through unity we shall preserve it for ourselves, and we shall leave the edifice standing for our descendants.

With someone like the Sheikh of Glory among the Arabs of the world, we shall restore the age of messengers and glories.

O Lord, we invoke You with a prayer laden with praise and gratitude, offered with sound purpose.

We beg You to grant success to the one who attained greatness across our cities and deserts.

We beg You to give him whatever glory he seeks across the universe's seas and among the noble.

We beg You to fulfill your blessings upon the Sheikh of Glory, who has become among us the master of masters.

He has gathered virtues, nobility, and wisdom, and we have witnessed them through his white, giving hands.

These lands have welcomed his settling glory, so they are decked out in fragrant, fresh cloaks.

The true fighter is not one who treads a path and finds it choked with thornbushes.

Rather, the true fighter in this world is he who attains noble deeds, for that is the finest struggle.

And he strove like Abu Khalifa Zayed, whenever the call to struggle summoned him.

No wonder I composed a tuneful poem for one who filled me with wonder and won my heart.

Indeed, praise is the rightful due of the generous, and rights are seized with the lash of determination.

Though I built poetic palaces containing praise, that still falls short of a fraction of my affection.

Zayed's days are delight and joy, with affection filling the boundless expanse.

So live on, Abu Sultan, an eternal treasure whose radiance endures for all time.

Our pulpits are robed in the finest green garments woven from the words of the guiding leader.

Had accession day not been built on affection and love, it would not be a true holiday among holidays.

What is wrong with the Arab nation that it has been fractured, while enemies carved up the land of Yad?

They colonized the ancestors' soil and scattered the sons of Arabs across high hills and deep valleys.

They scorned the sanctities of a people and traded faith for blank atheism.

Jerusalem calls its people to solidarity, and the Holy House calls its people to struggle.

The earth complains of oppression in the land of those who learned nobility from the people of the letter Ḍād.

They stood together as one Arab league, for there is truly no strength in standing alone.

There is no difference between Arabs under the swords of glory, whether compared in the Gulf or in Baghdad.

My family is every Arab family, my qibla every minaret, my soil every land, and my country all of them.

Thus you emerged from among the ranks, our prince, calling us to fight the arrogant tyrant.

You urge your people to rouse themselves from slumber and sleeplessness until they take their place in the assembly.

You declared it an open war against the scoundrels so that the banner of villains might be wiped out.

You raised the standard of the Lord's party on high, filling the horizon with sweet songs.

The instinct for noble deeds lies dormant within you, matching your people's desires and my own.

So live, endure, and rule your country while following the path of guidance and treading the road of righteousness.