Eid, in what condition have you returned, O Eid? With what has passed, or with a matter that is new in you? As for the beloved, the desert is beyond them. I wish there was a hand before you, a hand before it. Were it not for the highness, it would not have answered me what I answer with. The harvest of a letter, nor the barrenness of chains. Sweeter than my sword to sleep with were the likes of its splendor, the beautiful, beautiful maidens. Time has left nothing of my heart or my liver that an eye or a neck can be infatuated with. O my cupbearer, is there wine in your cups, or in your cups is worry and sleeplessness? A rock, why am I not? This wine moves me, not these songs If I want a pure chestnut color, I find it, and the beloved of the soul is missing What have I found of the world And it is amazed that I am envied for what I weep for I have become a rich soul, a treasurer and a hand I am the rich and my money is the promises I have come to liars Their guest is limited from villages and travel The generosity of men is from hands, their generosity is from tongues, so they were neither, nor is generosity Death does not take a soul from their souls except that in his hand is from its stench a stick from Every soft-bellied, bursting man is not counted among the saddles or women. Whenever a bad slave assassinates or betrays his master, he has a preface in Egypt. The eunuch has become the leader of its fugitives. The free man is enslaved and the slave is worshipped. The watchmen of Egypt have slept on its foxes, for they have become ugly. The slave does not perish. A righteous free man has no brother, even if he were born in the clothes of a free man. Do not buy a slave unless he has a stick with him. Slaves are indeed impure and mischievous. I was not I think I live to a time when a dog will harm me, and he is praised. I have not imagined that people have been lost, or that someone like Abu al-Baydaa exists, or that the black one with the perforated eyelashes is obeyed by the one with the thundering teeth, hungry, eating from my provisions, and holding me back so that it may be said, “He is of great stature.” The intended meaning is that a man is a pregnant slave girl, who manages his affairs, oppressed, hot-eyed, and heartbroken. He gathers her plan and gathers her recipient. For the likes of her, the leading mare was created, and with her the taste of death is sweet. His drinker, death is a hot spot when humiliated. Who taught the black castrated man honor? Are his white ancestors the ones who hunted him? Or is his ear bleeding in the hand of the slave trader? Or is his fate returned for two mites? The most vile of the vile are Kuwaifir with an excuse for every vileness, and some excuses are refutation. That is because white stallions are incapable of beauty, so how about black testicles?