إِنّي نَذيرُ الَّتي أَلقَت مَنيئَتَها

إِنّي نَذيرُ الَّتي أَلقَت مَنيئَتَها

عَلى القُعودِ وَحَفَّتها بِأَهدامِ

عَلى القُعودِ وَحَفَّتها بِأَهدامِ

I am a warner to the woman who laid her hide for tanning

I am the warner of her who pitched her camp

On a young camel and wrapped it in rags—

Upon the sandhills and ringed it with swamps

مِنَ المُهيباتِ مُخضَرّاً مَغابِنُها

مِنَ المُهيباتِ مُخضَرّاً مَغابِنُها

لَم تُثقِبِ الجَمرَ كَفّاها بِأَهضامِ

لَم تُثقِبِ الجَمرَ كَفّاها بِأَهضامِ

One of the camel-driving women, her skin-folds green;

Of fearsome aspect, green though her thickets be

Her two hands have not kindled embers with incense.

Her hands have never bored the live coal's holes