They never begrudge a neighbour the surplus of their bounty,
Nor is their nature ever smudged by covetous desire.

Whenever we set the cauldron on the fire, we need not coax them—
They do not creep toward it the way a desert insect creeps to carrion.

We rise to the heights when war sinks its talons into us,
While the riff-raff cower before those very claws.

They do not boast when they bring an enemy low;
And if they are struck themselves, they show no weakness and no panic.

In the mêlée, with death crouching close, they are like lions—
Lions of Ḥalyah, their thick fore-legs powerfully curved.

Take from them whatever they grant you freely, even in anger;
Let not your concern be the thing they withhold.

For to wage war on them—so lay aside their enmity—
Is to plunge into a harm beside which poison and bitter colocynth are mild.

How noble a folk whose partisanship is the Messenger of God
When desires clash and factions fall apart!

I send them my praise, guided by a heart that backs it
And a deftly weaving tongue in all that I hold dear.

For they are the best of every living clan—
Whether serious speech is required or people keep their silence.

Ibn Hishām said: A man versed in poetry from Banū Tamīm told me that when al-Zibrqān ibn Badr came to the Messenger of Allah ﷺ with the Tamīm delegation, he rose and recited:

We have come to you so that all people may know our worth
Whenever they differ at the gathering of the seasons;
That we are the foremost branch of mankind in every land,
And that in the Ḥijāz there is none to rival Dārim.