عُلِّقتُ جائِلَةَ الوِشاحِ غَريرَةً

عُلِّقتُ جائِلَةَ الوِشاحِ غَريرَةً

تَختالُ بَينَ أَسِنَّةٍ وَبَواتِرِ

تَختالُ بَينَ أَسِنَّةٍ وَبَواتِرِ

I was smitten with an innocent maiden whose sash hangs loose;

I hung my cloak, worn from my travels,

She walks proudly among spearheads and keen-edged swords.

Swaying between lances and tent pegs