1. I wrote with it one day in play and rapture
It practices of its terrors what it practices

2. And I have men for revelry who have become nimble
Their turbans slipped from their foreheads, and the slippers

3. So for the wind are those whose pockets it has tossed about
And for the water are those the jars have circled around

4. Scrapers along the street corners on their ankles
Withered weeds of Anṭāʿ, soft and dry