من كتاب الصحراء

Once upon a time, there was a girl, a banner

The time has dried up, yet she remains abundant

And she fears that without her love, she will wither

And she goes wild if his hands touch a cigarette

Bedouin, yet she does not shy away from all

Art, she does not fear civilization

Since the wind gave birth to her, she is a cloud

To be hoped for, and a sea guarding the oyster

And a poem that does not submit to a poet

And sorrows that have prayed on the lyre

Bedouin, and she towers over the palm trees that

Are in her spirit, and she negotiates with the sailors

And pours from the essence of poems

Sealed coffee, and debates with the tavern keeper

And returns the spirited horses to their wildness

And with her, the wolves are revered and bold

Bedouin, she knows that her sitting

In the corner of her distant tent is a sign

And that her long journey to greatness

Is a path that teaches its riders to be alert

Bedouin, yet because of her beauty

She dipped her fingers to ignite its fire

And she adorned her eyes with sorrow until they blossomed

With a mighty pride in her pupils

She tightened a cloak around her slender figure

That preserves the dignity of beauty

And she armed herself with silence until she seemed

From the excess of what words inhabited, a lighthouse

Bedouin, like the sun that appeared, yet

The sun of women is elusive and cunning