1. Who will lend me a she-camel from Buzaal,
That casts to you the ropes of travel,

2. Swift of pace, as though she glimpsed
In you the meadow of generosity before my arrival,

3. I coaxed her while the full moon was rising
Until the leader of stars responded to the coaxing,

4. She wrote lines with her markings
Above the sand dunes and plains she dictated,

5. With her I propose travel by night
Hastening despite fatigue and effort,

6. The one I approached as a young man
Will be generous to my hopes, free of stinginess,

7. Pasturages cannot restrain his abode
Though he stays among the trails of camels,

8. His side was not tempted by dishonor
Since he clenched his hand on the sword hilt,

9. His breath reminds you, when troubles press heavily,
Of the sweet fragrance of the root of that lineage,

10. You are like the sword in Muḍar
Which people at war sought refuge in from disgrace,

11. When you call them at a time of distress
They pull behind you with the frayed rope,

12. They do not spare whoever sought protection against them
The clanging of the sword and the flight of arrows,

13. My tribesmen and the tribes in a country
So pull to me the forelock of the ostrich,

14. And reap my strength, for I am ever
A wanderer, roaming the lands.