All roads lead to Rome,
But victory, a road unique.

Never gained by sleep prolonged,
Victory comes to those who toil.

And who for glory never strives,
His life and death are futile.

In an hour of struggle and congestion,
As horses ran exhausted.

Hamdan, whose skill is renowned,
And is, when needed, a hero and leader.

His horse lost a shoe, and although ever,
My supporter, yet luck helped him not.

Fought on without him with all my might,
And filled the place of a hero, gifted.

When on my eye a cloud came.
Raining blood, its pain severe.

Horses by their riders ruled,
None controls a leader but a leader.

Never concerns us, envy,
We are content with Zayed's blessing.

I present to Zayed the happy news of victory,
And we are proud of Zayed, to us a father.

Oh, our people with musk sealed,
Your gifts, your glory enduring.

And love for you on the heart engraved,
May enemies and enviers approach you not.

May my soul, by its pledge committed,
Lead you to the spring, fresh.