Then an old woman, a widow, who has been reminded of the death of her husband, calls out to him:
Oh, Sheikh, have you gone to the land?
Then give my salams to my boy,
He has gone on a long, long journey,
And took neither clothing nor toy.
Ah, what will he wear on the feast days,
When the people their festal enjoy?
Now one of the women addresses the corpse:
Lord of the wide domain,
All praise of you is true.
The women of your hareem,
Are dressed in mourning blue.
Then one sings the mother's wail:
My tears are consuming my heart,
How can I from him bear to part.
Oh raven of death, tell me why,
You betrayed me and left him to die?
Oh raven of death begone!
You falsely betrayed my son!
Oh Milham, I beg you to tell,
Why you've gone to the valley to dwell?
From far, far away I have come,
Who will come now to take me back home?
Then rises such a wail as you never heard before. A hundred women all screaming together and then men are coming to take it away. The women hug and kiss the corpse, and try to pull it back, while the men drive them off, and carry it out to the bier. Some of the women faint away, and a piercing shriek arises. Then you hear the mother's wail again.
Then one sings the call of the dead man for help:
Oh ransom me, buy me, my friends to-day,
'Tis a costly ransom you'll have to pay,
Oh ransom me, father, whate'er they demand,
Though they take all your money and houses and land.
And another sings his address to the grave-diggers: