The easy and prolonged running of the wolf;
He accomplishes in one day a five days' march;
And when he stretches out at full speed,
he strikes the girts with his hocks.
You would say that it was a dart hurled by fate,
Or a thirsty pigeon that precipitates itself
Upon the water preserved in the hollow of a rock.
Yes, Sabok is a war horse!
He loves the chace of savage animals,
He sighs only for glory and booty,