1. Some of us journey on continuously, however far people travel,
Holding a stick or a small waterskin under his arm.

2. With a sleepy eye he follows our forefathers’ tracks,
Weak and stumbling beneath his loose robes.

3. Jet-black tent walls, bleary, puckered eyes
As though their edges were scorched when the cooking pot boiled over.

4. And I have marched ahead of the tribe, who propel me along,
And my toil with the two saddlebags cuts into my shoulders.

5. Bent double like a buttress, forced on by
A scrawny hand and a dusty foot gone numb.

6. The gaze of the lofty, bright-eyed youth pierces me;
His fingers are gentle as he kneads his belly’s cavity.

7. So he passed his time 'twixt chatter and dozing,
Tending to the edges of slumber and muttering.

8. Until the new moon of evening declined or his protection waned,
And he thought his companions would soon fold up their tent-cloth,

9. He shook out his skirts and his slumbering soul revived
In one who does not wish time’s veil to be lifted.

10. No firmness is firm when panic seizes him,
Nor any wrath, when it flares, admit the truth.

11. Like a polished lamp carried by hands
Of twig-like forearms; nothing covers their bones.

12. A delicate creature, whose sides flutter
As branches of the tamarisk flutter in the evening.

13. Like the Abyssinian lions, bold,
With lynxes around them, their ears tufted.

14. Gloomy, apathetic, working listlessly,
Whimpering, with gentle, wheezing breath.

15. Our lads go about with smooth cheeks, their young chins
Furry with first soft hair and side-whiskers.

16. Our children say, ‘Woe to you, your mother!,
Each one of you seeks only his own advantage.’