1. When we reached the fields, their skirts trailing,
The shirt of mourning seemed to don its shoulders.

2. A little dust in the eyes reveals
That it is death, if its folds do not slip from us.

3. We put ourselves forward, so he greeted us reluctantly,
His greeting choking us with the noonday heat.

4. I walked with him a mile, and would that I
Had never accompanied him throughout his life.

5. When she saw there was no consummation, and that
Over us the canopy of fate was pitched,

6. She glanced at me with an eye whose dart,
Had it been an arrow, would have pierced his throat and jugular;

7. With a lightning flash in her eyes, whose gleam
Was like the lightning-flash over Nedjd's meadows.