Our Days[3] are famous among our foemen, of fair report,
branded and blazed with glory like noble horses.
Our swords have swept throughout all lands both west and east,
and gathered many a notch from the steel of hauberk-wearers;
Not used are they when drawn to be laid back in the sheaths
before that the folk they meet are spoiled and scattered.
If thou knowest not, ask men what they think of us and them
—not alike are he that knows and he that knows not.
The children of Ed-Dayyán are the shaft of their people’s mill,
—around them it turns and whirls, while they stand midmost.[4]