(Impersonating Butrus)
On the shore of the sea the gazels are browsing;
Oh, the descent to the ship, it is bad.
On the shore of the sea the gazels are airing;
Oh, the descent to the ship, it is bitter.
On the seashore, wondering whither to turn,
Appear, O Na‛meh! the ship goes.
At the hospital I am thirsty, I want to drink;
Bid me good-by, my brother, the ship goes.
(The mourners)