Ode XLVIII: To whom belong the camels bearing

To whom belong the camels bearing women's litters, that float [on the sun-mist] in the forenoon, like dom-palms or great sea-going ships —

Setting the Valley of the Hyaenas on their left, and the stony strath of an-Ni'af on their right,

Uplifting broidered curtains, at whose beauty the eye is amazed, on the back of each eight-year-old camel, tractable and submissive,

Or [hard as] an anvil, trained to all the paces of going, lean and sinewy, like a wild-cow [in swiftness], brisk and alert,

Making for the track of Samsam mid the stretches of sand — they tarry not to heed the voice of one calling in love-longing and sorrow ?

Carry, ye twain, this message to al-Mundhir, who seeks carefully for news of me, while I ask not for his favour nor seek his help —

'This is not the time [for thy desire to be fulfilled]. Would that I were on the way to az-Zujj, and my people in Syria, the land of the long-locked [Greeks] !

' Thou hast to deal with a man self-respecting, who does not pine for things he cannot get, whose desires realize themselves in due time —

' Not one who gives up the game, what time the weakling takes refuge in silence, under the shadow of abasement ;

' Who gives work to the eight-year-old she-camel, speeding swiftly along with the saddle on her back, complaining of the burden of the uplands after the rough stony plains,

'Carrying a warrior lean of frame and a quick business, and a sharp sword, bright as salt, that obeys his right hand.'