Had eaten his fill of yellow stew
And a bit besides (as a business man
He was far too quick for the caravan,
Who loved him not, though it feared his guile).
Moussa then: "I shall walk awhile
"To ease my soul of its heavy load."
His pious friends: "May you find a road,"
And winked. "His soul has begun to feel
There's nothing left but a march to steal."
But one from the village, decoying quail