From the 'Mu 'allakât of Antara': Translation of E.H. Palmer
'Twas then her beauties first enslaved my heart--
Those glittering pearls and ruby lips, whose kiss
Was sweeter far than honey to the taste.
As when the merchant opes a precious box
Of perfume, such an odor from her breath
Comes toward me, harbinger of her approach;
Or like an untouched meadow, where the rain
Hath fallen freshly on the fragrant herbs
That carpet all its pure untrodden soil:
A meadow where the fragrant rain-drops fall
Like coins of silver in the quiet pools,
And irrigate it with perpetual streams;
A meadow where the sportive insects hum,
Like listless topers singing o'er their cups,
And ply their forelegs, like a man who tries
With maimèd hand to use the flint and steel.
AND WHAT MANNER OF MAN HE WAS
From the original poem of Duraid, son of as-Simmah, of Jusharn: Translation of C.J. Lyall.
I warned them both, 'Ârid, and the men who went 'Ârid's way--
the house of the Black Mother: yea, ye are all my witnesses,