O Arabs, like a tale of Sherezade
Heard in the camp, when javelin shafts are tried
On the hot eve of battle, is her story.
“Far in the Southern sands, the hunters say,
Did Sofuk find her, by a lonely palm.
The well had dried; her fierce, impatient eye
Glared red and sunken, and her slight young limbs
Were lean with thirst. He checked his camel’s pace,
And while it knelt, untied the water-skin,
And when the wild mare drank, she followed him.