1. O gazelle with swords as his veil
In my heart are manifold those veils

2. We are unused, though substitutes are many
That a guest should be pressed among the Arabs

3. In shackles, while water is above the folds
And abasement between spear and bow

4. Where are those forms, where do you see them
They followed the caravan’s track

5. Do you see, O fate, you have afflicted
Their lord as the heart of youth

6. The dawns’ hearts sighed with the zephyr
And the gray-haired eyelids wept with shame