If, even at night,

the archers of Buḥtur

were to aim at the pupils

of their enemies’ eyes,

they would not miss

There is no fault in them

except that their sword blades

are notched

from striking

mailed squadrons

We lashed our whips harshly

on our horses

until their swift fore

and hind legs

flew away

with them

It was as if the dust

of the battlefield

raised over our heads,

and our swords,

had been a night

and its falling

stars

Eagles stumble in the dust

of the battlefield

as if the sky

were flat ground

or soft soil

Had it not been for the wind

the people of H. ujr

would have heard

the clanking of helmets

struck by sharp

swords

It quivers like a sword

that, if it were not drawn

by the swordsman's hand,

its sharp edge alone

would unsheathe it

You have reaped

the ripe fruits of battle

with the verdant leaves

of green iron*

* This line on bravery on the battlefield was cited as an example of a novel and excellent meaning. See The Neckveins of Winter, p, 47

Our white porringers

glitter in the forenoon

And our swords,

because of our courage

in rushing to the aid

of others,

drip precious

blood