Their hoofs were hard: they could go without shoes.
By Allah! I used to fancy myself on an ostrich.
To find the tall grass
Which grows in solitudes dangerous to traverse,
In solitudes defended by the points of lances,
And by the descent of torrents,
I have many a time galloped,
When the birds were yet asleep in their nests.
To hunt the white-skinned zebra,
Whose legs are striped like Indian stuffs,