1. With disheveled hair they had torn out its bands,
From the family of crooked-nosed Dhummar and Fihl.

2. The perfume of their litter-camels in the evening
Spread as far as the orbit of the revolving stars.

3. When they set forth at dawn, their radiance
Was like the mountain of Tuwa', of shifting sands.

4. They sniff the air with nostrils quivering,
Like antelopes, wild, startled.

5. You would see Atya lead the she-camel, then the beasts ahead of him
Gallop swiftly through the valley’s depths.

6. He follows them, crouched on his camel’s back, bent over,
As though he were a wound sack, flat.

7. You would see on Atya’s shoulders as he leaned
His wide cloak, adjusted evenly for him.

8. When the hot wind dies down you would see him take refuge
In the shade, shunning every open space.

9. He cursed the donkey he followed behind
With his braying from behind, and pelted it with pebbles.

10. The son of Mughira has now turned monk,
Begging, in humble garb with bowl in hand,

11. Walking self-possessedly among a band of rascals
Ugly to behold, not men but satans all.

12. With baleful eyes they glared at me,
The staring of villains, not of men at all.

13. Lounging at dawn against the tent-poles sluggishly,
They pass them with limbs like sapless twigs.

14. Virtue, Kulayb, is not for the likes of you,
Or battle steeds on the day heroes clash.