1. The tents were struck at dawn, with languor in the eyes,
The camel-litters were made ready, and hearts were burning.

2. The caravan was distraught with love of the halted places,
Neither slumbering nor awake.

3. And there appeared to us a tribe of lovely maidens,
Who snatched away our hearts with a ravishing glance.

4. Their cheeks soft virgins, nurtured in beauty,
Yet their hearts sturdy and bold.

5. Their words were like their tears, their tears like their words,
Their words tears, their tears words.