1. Set out, my desert friends, your camel litters,
For I now incline to other folk than you.

2. Necessities weigh down; the night is starry,
My she-camel's saddle-girths are tightly bound and I ride forth.

3. On earth there is a refuge for the noble from hurt,
And on it for whoso fears the evil tongues a sheltering place.

4. By your life, nowhere on earth feels confined to a man
Who fares eagerly on, or devoutly, being rational.

5. And I have, apart from you, a people, illustrious lords,
Dimwitted and stupid, loud-mouthed braggarts.

6. They are a folk no secret's safe with once made known,
Nor does the guilty 'scape, however much he pleads.

7. Each is intractable, flinty, unless when I
Unleash, if the first of the prey appears, my hounds.

8. Nor when in need the hands are stretched for aid am I
The quickest of them all, although the greediest.

9. That but shows favour and a generous disdain
Of them; the most noble is ever the most generous.

10. I have a comrade other than they, who'll not betray me
When our two hands are intertwined in pact of faith.

11. I have done with him whose kindness I can't pay
In kind, nor dwell near one for dubious advantage.

12. Three boon companions: a heart exultant,
A white blade bare, and tawny yellow cloak.

13. Neighings from the smooth lined necks as if they were
Tracings on them inscribed by artist's hand.

14. When the arrow slips from them they slope as though
They were a frightened oryx herd that moans and bleats.

15. I fare with leathern belly-band, nor rouses wantonness
To eat or heart emboldened me to loose its knot.

16. No weakling am I who in evening tethers his rope-tied steeds,
Leaving their forelock hair dishevelled and uncombed.

17. No camel-herd who for his camel herd's delight
Coos to it all night, teaching it loving words.

18. No ragged tatter, whose heart flutters with it,
Now high, now low, as tatters are tossed about by wind.

19. No city-dweller, curled and scented, primped,
Who saunters out at dawn, his eyes with kohl adorned.

20. No rain whose ill exceeds its blessings when
Its wonted rain pools form and water clouds roll in.

21. No frightened one when darkness falls and threatens,
Who by the howling desert ass's braying is dismayed.

22. When my white-footed camel meets the Gibson's duikers,
There's a guardian, tame, with every herd of his.

23. I bear long hunger's pangs until I've killed them
And turn in loathing from the thought, bemused and dazed.

24. I rub my hand across the soil until no man
Of towering height observes in me excess.

25. Were't not for shunning blame, no sweet drink were
Quaffed by me, nor meat eaten, but what I prepare.

26. Yet nothing makes my soul in patience dwell
Amid such blame, saving to shift and migrate.

27. I wrap about my waist the loin-cloth as it wrapped
The intertwisting strands about the tent ropes knit.

28. And fare with meagre victuals, as the ostrich fared,
Wind-borne, brushing the valley crests, and honey-filled.

29. When food no more sustained it, though its mother was there,
The like of it responded, ostriches in groups.

30. Slow-paced, white-cheeked, as though their palms
Were dice cups that a gambler spills and agitates.

31. Or beetles mustered, set in motion, their ploughing parts
Like writhing serpents' coils, deployed and pitted deep.

32. It moaned, and round about the hills they moaned, as though
Both it and they sang dirges on the high peaked slopes.

33. It nodded, and they nodded; it complained, and they
Complained for it, their necks entwining and inwove.

34. It cried aloud, and then they cried aloud, whereafter
Both next were silent, for if cries bring no relief,

35. Patience is best. They came in numbers, each and all
Hiding griefs same as those a polished knave conceals.

36. They drank the muddy dusk, though lately they drank clear
At dawn, the troop from El Ahsa's fertile plains.

37. It faced the earth when settling there as gently as
The twitching of dancers' anklets, lightly tapped.

38. I smooth my cheek along it, as a dreaming boy
May rub a cheek at play on dice forms incised.

39. But if the mother of a twin lamb should reject it,
It had not joyed before at bearing twins. More grave

40. Am I than she, though preyed on ceaselessly,
Its pickings rending it, by this wolf or that.

41. My sleep its eyes dislike, they watch through the night
Gleaming evilly towards the ill it bodes.

42. I'm wonted to these cares that still come circling back,
Like quartan fever's heat, or worse than heat.

43. When they draw near I face them, then, despite it all,
They turn and visit me with patience, pardoning.

44. You'll see me sometimes pale, singing again, for wealth
Belongs to those who freely cast it wide.

45. No passion in extremis, no joy if wealthy I,
Imagining, while fate's sharp blade is at my neck.

46. The foolish envy not my clemency, nor see
I fault in what the tale-tellers allege of me.

47. On a night of ill-luck, its Lord knotched tight his bow
And split with it the clans about to notch their own;

48. I trod on rabble, riff-raff; my company
Was sparks struck out, the whirring of wings, screech of wolves.

49. So I gave the women short shrift and found the children waifs,
Returning as I'd come, the night being at its deepest.

50. Next morn I faced the black tents seated 'midst two groups:
One questioning, the other pleading pitiably.

51. 'Our hounds were startled in the night,' they said. We said:
'Wolves on the raid, or lynxes on the hunt?'

52. It proved mere rumour, then died down, whereat we said:
'Wild cats who preyed, or foxes stealing close?'

53. But if it were some jinn I'd set myself to watch,
While if human I'd ask what humans want.

54. On a day when the Dog Star raged and the air burned,
Its serpents writhing in the glare, twisting and coiled,

55. I showed my face, no veil or covering but a patched
Cloak wrapped about, my cheeks by hunger gaunt.

56. Far he from perfume's scent or fragrant oils,
Grimed by the road, rejecting cleanliness!

57. A coat like mail, its back unwoven by the loom,
Was pieced by me with two disparate shoulder-flaps.

58. I stitched its top part to its bottom, honouring
The pledge on a beggar's threadbare coat though I am rich.

59. The lank-necked calves mill round me as though they were
Maidens whose robes the trains sweep on the ground.

60. And shuffle close on shaky legs as though I were
For chastity preserved by God the refuge clearest.

61. When from their lips the blowing wind robs every shred
Of herbage, leaving backs stripped bare, and packsaddles bare,

62. I turn away and leave them, since to dwell amidst
Such blame is something my proud soul rejects.

63. Arough-skinned waterskins, they cling to me as though
They were a maiden band of temptress beauties clothed

64. In costly robes, seductive in their glancing eyes.
And yet I am by abstinence made chaste, foolish desires spurned,

65. Though destitute, the soul still is consoled
If in experience and wisdom it equals the heart and ears.

66. Sometimes I disappear, sometimes am missed, but wealth
Comes only to the open-handed and high-minded man.

67. So no despair at a decline in wealth for me,
Nor joy at fortune, leading me to vain conceit.

68. The foolish envy not my clemency, nor see
I fault in what the tale-tellers allege of me.

69. On a night of ill luck, its Lord knotched tight his bow
And split with it the clans about to notch their own;

70. I trod on rabble, riff-raff; my company
Was sparks struck out, the whirring of wings, screech of wolves.