إِنّي نَذيرُ الَّتي أَلقَت مَنيئَتَها

عَلى القُعودِ وَحَفَّتها بِأَهدامِ

I am the warner of her who pitched her camp

Upon the sandhills and ringed it with swamps

مِنَ المُهيباتِ مُخضَرّاً مَغابِنُها

لَم تُثقِبِ الجَمرَ كَفّاها بِأَهضامِ

Of fearsome aspect, green though her thickets be

Her hands have never bored the live coal's holes