ما كُنتُ أَحسَبُ أَنَّ الخُبزَ فاكِهَةٌ
حَتّى نَزَلتُ عَلى زَيدِ بنِ مَنصورِ
I never thought that bread was a fruit
until I lodged with Zayd ibn Mansur—
الحابِسِ الروثَ في أَعفاجِ بَغلَتِهِ
خَوفاً عَلى الحَبِّ مِن لَقطِ العَصافيرِ
who keeps the dung confined in his mule’s entrails,
fearing lest sparrows peck the grain from it.
Sol 5.6