O driver of the reddish-white camels

O driver of the reddish-white camels, do not hasten with them, but stop! for I am a cripple going after them.
Stop the camels and tighten their reins! I beseech thee by God, by my passion, by my anguish, O driver!
My soul is willing, but my foot does not second her. Who will pity and help me?
What shall the skilled craftsman do in a case where his tools have declared themselves to be working mischief?
Turn aside, for their tents are on the right of the valley. God bless thee, O valley, for what thou containest!
Thou hast collected a folk who are my soul and my breath and the inmost core of the black clot in the membrane of my liver.
May my love be unblest if I do not die of grief at Ḥájir or Sal‘ or Ajyád!