Al‑Sharafi is stirred, and his verse awakens,
his poetry rises, carried by its messengers.
He crafts his lines, taking what is light and fine,
until every listener understands his meaning.
We praise the One who grants us His faithful grace,
the Giver whose blessings reach His servants.
O messenger, ride upon the swift she‑camel,
deliver the news, bring it and return with it.
Ask him about the day they gathered, yet saw no cure,
when Abu Turki struck with his mighty blows.
He assembled them when he saw the battle surge,
many an enemy wondered what fate awaited him.
May God shield them with His vast protection,
and may the foe lose all hope of his demands.
The Al‑Muqrin are noble falcons without flaw,
each one rare, striking with powerful talons.
They honored the House of Mecca with gifts and offerings,
for whoever enters the Sacred Mosque seeks only prayer.
Whoever enters it bows in safety, without fear,
its gates—built by his grandfather—grant refuge.
Al‑Sharafi stands from the valley to its outskirts,
and the Al‑Zayed—each known for his goodness.