Lion! Alexander! had he seen that battle thou didst gain, Crown and throne to thee to offer Key-Qubād were surely fain! O most noble! thou a Vezīr to such fame that dost attain, That the God of Hosts did surely Lord of Fortune thee ordain! Like to flame, the fiery blast scathed foemen’s lives, it blazed amain; Threw’st thou, cinder-like, the misbelievers’ ashes o’er the plain. “Conqueror of the Nations’ Mother” as thy title should be ta’en; Since thou’st saved the Nations’ Mother, all the nations joy again. Wishing long ago, ’twould seem, to sing thy splendid glory’s strain, Nef‘ī wrote for thee this couplet--for thy deeds a fit refrain: “Bravo! Champion of the Epoch! rending ranks in serried fight! O’er the ‘Arsh hang now thy sabre, sparkling like the Pleiads bright!” When the misbelieving Frenchman sudden swooped on Egypt’s land, Thither was the army’s leader sent by the Great King’s command; But at length o’erthrown and vanquished by the foe his luckless band, Then thou wentest and the vile foe scatter’dst wide on every hand; Then, when they thy lightning-flashing, life-consuming cannon scanned, Knew the hell-doomed misbelievers vain were all things they had planned. Hundred vezīrs, joy-attended, countless foemen did withstand; Day and night, three years the misbelievers fought they brand to brand; Worn and wretched fell those at thy feet, and quarter did demand: It beseems thee, howsoever high in glory thou mayst stand! “Bravo! Champion of the Epoch! rending ranks in serried fight! O’er the ‘Arsh hang now thy sabre, sparkling like the Pleiads bright!”