Tighten the saddle for her, O father, tighten it;
Count out to her a hundred quarter riyals.
THE VOICES OF THE WOMEN IN HIGH TONES CALLING
OUT ABOUT THE BRIDE[[73]]
Bend gracefully from side to side,
O thou who bendest as a palm in the mountains.
Thou art not bad to lower thy value,
But thou art like the well-bred horses, perfect.
Put thy sleeve over thy mouth, thou beauty, like thy mother;
The man is thy uncle, he will make and enlarge thy sleeve.