1. Neither the cavalcades passing by, nor
The cooing of doves in the thickets

2. Of hair like silk dyed with henna and what
Blood was shed nor cut for the rites

3. The musky scent where the pilgrims throng
To don ihram and pray at each stop

4. Long was my yearning, confusion again
Recalled days with a noble maid

5. Her face like the crescent moon so pale
Or a golden statue graced in its drape