1. From the patterns at the top of an old palm tree being tapped for wine
Your tears flowed over your cheek like the flowing sap

2. They cannot overpower the blind even if they try overpowering
Nor can they prolong the quenching of their thirst at the cistern

3. Woe to the mother of the living whom in their breasts
You thrust, you dogs, on a morn of fear and terror