1. You complain of us as if we were ignoble, but we aspire to the heights of glory.
Our neighbor spends the night a chaste, restrained mare that turns away and lets our Master take his due.

2. We give our guests their rightful share in our water, as if we had been their cupbearers.
When the robe-clad come at dawn, we say these were our late father's dying behests that he charged us with:

3. Never to turn away the food-bags when they are brought forth, until their camels have circled all about, searching for pasture and water.
And we defend our tribal pastures with force against all comers, refusing ever to let them be profaned.

4. In our dreams live on our loved ones, unsubdued, their faces still free of the marks of age.
And our women remain forever virtuously cloistered, so that they seem like singing girls secluded.

5. Our Sayyid rules without having to defend himself, and above two other masters he holds sway.
When our swords prove too short, we extend them with our hands until they reach what we desire.

6. And when the steeds see us assembled, they magnify us and shy away from our arena.