سلا حاديَ الأنضاء أين يريدُ

وهذا وقد كلَّ المَطِيُّ زرودُ

Where are you leading, O guide of the saddlebags,

Now that the mounted one has journeyed far?

رِياضٌ كدِيباجِ الخدودِ نَواضِرٌ

وماءٌ كسَلْسالِ الرُّضابِ بَرود

Gardens like the cheeks of maidens in bloom,

Waters like cascades of pearls that sparkle and cool.

فمِيلوا إليها بالمطايا فَدُونَنا

تهائمُ يُطْوَى عَرْضُها ونُجود

Turn your mounts that way, away from us,

So we may fold up the width of the meadows and leave.

وفي ذلك الوادي العَقيقّيِ ظَبيةٌ

تُصادُ ظباءُ القاع وهْي تَصيد

And in that valley of carnelians is a gazelle

Who hunts the wild goats even as they graze and hunt.