Grant me a son like this noble bird,
E’en should he be black, thou Considerate!—
Thou wast form’d in my womb, and wast born, my son;
And all thy relations, with joy elate,
And thy father among them, paid honour to me:
But soon did our happiness terminate:
The chiefs of Hilál attack’d our tribe;
And Rizk, among them, precipitate,
Fell on thy father, my son, and slew him;
Then seiz’d on his wealth, his whole estate.