Translated by A. Z. Foreman - Lament for His People in Rawḥān lyrics

Were those my people's dwellings that in the stoneland lie? They are now a dwindled vestige changed by the hands of Time. There did I halt my camel to question what remained, But turned away with tears gushing from my eyes In streams as though my lids that moment had burst forth The downpour of a cloud from winter-laden skies. Oh mine was once the kindest of ordinary peoples To all who had fallen captive or ill, or on hard times, Good when they drew lots for camel-meat when winds Blew winter-hard, and neighbors united as a tribe. And when the moment called for thrusts they always did Color their spears from tip to shaft in the grim dye. And when the moment called for blades they always did Beat back the foe as lions protective of their pride. And when they heard the call "Dismount!" they always rushed In coats of mail on foot headlong into the fight. They are gone. I am still here but I am not forever. Change is the fate of things, the many shades of life. God knows what I know not about the end they met. What I have is remembrance of things lost in their time.