1. Longing has stirred for you restless, circling winds,
That have sifted barren dust over meadows once green.

2. Homes they watered, now a passing cloud,
That journeyed on when night was done, a morning breeze.

3. As though the lightning's flash within their rooms
Were lamps of monks, quenched by the pouring rains.

4. The last we met was by Umm Juhdar's tent,
When the wild mares charged upon her stony plain.

5. Charging mares that grunt unless spoken to gently
When stallions leap and mount their yielding frames.

6. And if we meet, O Umm Juhdar, though our folk despair,
Hope shall return and stand alert, no longer numb.

7. For your sake I roused the sleeping herd at dawn,
Though slumbering myself, and drove them, called by your name,

8. Till all thought of you flew like a startled grouse
When children clap their hands and run in sudden glee.

9. We slew both Al-Asbagh's sons, and we alone
Bore the banner when Dahis charged in rage.

10. And we slew Ibn Al-Sharid, till his excuses
Seemed like the babbling of delirious men.

11. Obstinate girls who'll not grant a grain of mustard,
Prattling at will like chattering starlings.

12. Hating to hear the slightest hint of censure,
As the Syrian mares hate the clink of rein.