On the day when every sword of Aws and Khazraj answered as one,
and the supporters of Aḥmad stood shoulder to shoulder for the radiant path of truth,
they kept on felling the champions, cleaving their way through the whirling dust.
They fought thus until the Sovereign summoned them to a Garden—its doorway a vast, shaded bower.
So fell Ḥamzah, true to his pledge, surging forward with a gleaming, keen-edged blade;
and each of them died in the furnace of the trial, steadfast upon Allah’s religion, never swerving from it.
Then the bondsman of Banū Nawfal faced him, growling like a dark-eyed camel,
and drove a spear into him—like a shooting star, flaring in a blazing fire.
Nuʿmān fulfilled his covenant, and the noble Ḥanzalah did not shrink
from the truth, until his spirit reached a dwelling splendidly decked in finest jewels.
Those men shall never share the fate of any among you who lies interred in the bolted depths of the Fire.

Ibn Isḥāq said: “Ḥassān ibn Thābit also composed an elegy for Ḥamzah and the Muslims slain at Uḥud; its rhyme follows the poem of Umayya ibn Abī al-Ṣalt on the idolaters killed at Badr.”
Ibn Hishām adds: “Some scholars of poetry contest its attribution to Ḥassān—Allah knows best.”

(from the rajaz metre)

O Mayy, rouse my people to wail at Suḥayrah with the lament of mourning women—
like laden she-camels stooping beneath their heavy burdens, prodded without respite;
keening women who claw their faces, freeborn and unenslaved,
the flood of their tears dyeing the stones as altars are stained with sacrificial blood.
There they loosen their tresses, their plaits hanging loose in disarray,
like the tails of swift horses galloping at high noon beneath a burning sun—
some braids tight, others undone, whipped about by the desert winds.
They weep in anguish over bodies stripped bare, worn down by relentless hardships;
a thunderbolt has struck their hearts, a clangor that wounds and burns,
for fate has aimed at those on whom we relied whenever battle lines were drawn:
the men of Uḥud—time closed in on them with cutting blows—
the riders and defenders who guarded us whenever the patrols set out.
O Ḥamzah, by Allah, I shall never forget you so long as milk-camels are still milked.