Yesterday, at noon, when the youth were finely turbaned At the hour of the Tazzar prayer A terrifying tempest thundered in the North, and advanced like a smoke cloud Expanding, and blocking out the entire horizon. I saw the burning sun, the sparks spouting from its entrails, The people scattering, unable to believe their own eyes. They looked like does who fear the hunters And flee from the sight of arms. All whose consciences won't leave them in peace are sad. They're living through terrible times And believe the last judgement is nigh. That day, the beauty of men didn't Deserve the gaze of the beautiful women They were waiting for it; they thought they had already died. Some affirm that God has already put an end to this world. Others raise the question of the moon, that has hidden the sun. Yet others mention England, which would have eclipsed the sun. As for me, I'm on my mount, With my dromedary, who cuts a fine figure with his tiny ears. I'm accompanied by Maryama, more beautiful than 'Ifesayan'.