I sprang to his side: the spears had riddled his body through
as a weaver on outstretched web deftly plies the sharp-toothed comb.
I stood as a camel stands with fear in her heart, and seeks
the stuffed skin with eager mouth, and thinks--is her youngling slain?
I plied spear above him till the riders had left their prey,
and over myself black blood flowed in a dusky tide.
I fought as a man who gives his life for his brother's life,
who knows that his time is short, that Death's doom above him hangs.
But know ye, if 'Abdallâh be dead, and his place a void,
no weakling unsure of hand, and no holder-back was he!