1. The worries have returned, though the isolated one knows naught of them,
And they have come upon me as a meadow is flooded.

2. I spend the night consoling a soul burdened by them -
Things no devout ascetic would care for.

3. The rebukes of a blamer who spends her nights tormenting me,
Her biting reproaches spare nothing and leave nothing.

4. When she saw me yield my tongue to her,
She said, “Obey me, for the follower must follow.”

5. I fear for you the ropes of death lying in wait
At every pasture where ambition is hoped for.

6. But I said, fate will not hurry his provisions,
Nor will caution and alarm distance them.

7. Did you hear of anyone among the people,
Who is privy to talk of the unseen?

8. For death has causes that bring it closer,
As the hunting ground draws the wild beast near.

9. And I see the wild beast’s flank miss
The arrows of archers, and the ancient mount survives.

10. After slumber my heart recalled,
“In what land, and among which people shall I seek refuge?”

11. I said, “In Damascus are trusted brethren -
Without them we have no peace or satiation.”

12. They are the highest peak and its shoulders,
While others are merely appendages and hangers-on.

13. If they are generous I have sought their generosity,
If they are miserly there is no blame or shame.

14. How many guided camels have I sent to you,
Their banners seem flags among their families.

15. Dusty, confused, frightening the guides in the dark,
In a land whose people are suspect.

16. As if their hobbles were clay around their smooth ankles,
Their elbows knotted into their necks.

17. The boats of water, the wind drove them on,
Scattered at times, gathered at others.

18. Their yellow throats betray their inarticulate sounds
When fear seizes them in the dark of night.

19. They water the young of howdahs newly prepared,
Until the heat exhausts all their udders.

20. Summery browns, sturdy, red, their straps,
Barely rising to the saddlebow.

21. They water them from leather buckets they bring
From the depths of the water, guarded by the mounts.

22. The morning draft and the winds overflowing surplus
Entwined, flank to flank kneading them.

23. Like pieces of ice it soothes the thirsty ones,
Without salt or trouble from cisterns.

24. When they descended by its sides, pacing evenly,
The slowest and swiftest of their paces.

25. Until when some have drunk their fill of its water,
They in turn water the she-camels.

26. They sped dawdling, followed by her,
Sloping of cheek, submissive.

27. Racing on purpose and plunging in,
When they dispersed from it as it raced off.

28. Jostling along like beads on a necklace, chambered,
No sooner does it collide than it recoils.

29. Until the falcon finished the pigeons headed towards it,
Drawing near to the ground at times but not landing.

30. And it remained sharply watching its prey,
Both burrows and ruins from its grasping claws.

31. Without recalling Hind when it disappeared
Beyond the two sons of craggy mountains.

32. And dwelt among sprightly she-camels in difficulty,
A brother of Dauiyya pasturing them.

33. An outcast whose lineage has left his tribe,
Audacity, and the barrenness of the arid place.

34. Where an eye pastures, its gaze the desert and deprivation,
On flowering plants licked by the smoke tree.