1. Alas the she-camel has knelt, missing her home,
Remembering her native land while I recall my companions.

2. If she knew the ways of trade, it would please her
To buy some sour milk in Mecca with Izkhir.

3. It would delight you if we were beside Unaiza,
With sour milk, dhawam, muddy water and sa'tar.

4. Whenever her herder wishes, he milks her udder,
As clear as a raven's eye, its purity undisturbed.

5. And I hope her salt is in your bellies,
Not stretched on the hide of a disheveled dusty one.