1. O Lord, a sight that surpasses all sights of the past
For the apex of the eye is to see its traces in sleep

2. A rose imparted to the Arabs, not severed
By the hands of events from its stems, its traces

3. When you see the smoke of galloping rising
You glimpse for outpacing from its shoulders its sparks

4. If its back where arrows are shot is rained upon, it goes on
And the outpacing closely follows it, else its charging would have gored it

5. I wondered when it is named swimming yet it
Has a leap - had the sea steadied beneath it, it would have grasped it

6. When it lifts from the hand racing it
It starts racing in its field with its sight

7. Yearning in the puffs of sadness ascending
First lightning in the plain descending

8. I shook in the desert like a bending branch
So the beast snatched from the face of the soil its traces