1. They have never ceased to ward off every calamity from me—

    the solid reed shafts God has bestowed.

  2. If fingertips made them rain, their crest surged

    over the writing sheets in streaming showers,

  3. until they reached the limits, exhausted,

    their hoof-tips chipped by first efforts and repeated ones.

  4. And knives gathered round them, paring, while already cleft

    were their heads between upward and downward strokes.

  5. So, after so much journeying, their tall, slender one became

    tucked away between the ends of the finger joints.

  6. And you have the lofty, spreading tree, grown

    where nabʿ trees grow on towering mountain peaks.

  7. So lead to me fine steeds from among its lean ones,

    solid-hoofed, with long, straight shanks.

  8. They strut in embroidered robes, vaunting themselves

    above lance-shafts and keen-edged sword-blades.

  9. If some branches of the grove resembled them,

    they would distract the doves from singing and sweet warbling.

  10. And even if the Khattī spear offered me its choicest in trade,

    I would not give it half a reed-joint for a spear-joint.

  11. And mounting my hand upon the pens you send

    calls for mounting me on sleek, long-bodied steeds.

  12. The bold raiding horseman cannot command his strength

    or his valor without a mount.

Sol 6.1