-27-A joy that resembles the milk of the Kasiba, a portion of those who inherited Wadad's love. The rain of the Sa'id poured, the solitary one cried out, his heart purified from its impurities. A joy that is pure, unadulterated, a pleasure that is sweet and abundant. And he, may God be pleased with him, said: The rain of the Sa'id poured, a worshipper lived above the houses, the threads of the curtains. Women without gifts or necklaces, a dream of a cheap market, buying iron. A gift that resembles the sea's horizon, the rain of the Sa'id poured, a cold wind blew upon us. When it is abundant, oh happy is she who embraces it, and fate is decreed. Your wonder at the dance when it is abundant. When her husband heard this, he feared for her, so he took her and went with her to Tali. When the Sheikh heard of this, He said, also poetically, as one who yearns: The offspring of the sword, we wave above Umm Qalah, we bind the Romans in a place where their words are heard. A face that is cut above the ships, your bride's dowry is a waste. The offspring of the sword, we wave above the customs, we strike the stubborn, the agreeable. If her face sees the flood, it rushes, your bride's dowry is not agreeable. Above her, we scatter her adornments, her rain of glitter. The dowry of the Dhaqla and the Maknu, their price. May the one who enters be healed. In general, this man is one of the Sufis, he twists the law in his speech. He is afflicted, and may God be pleased with him, he was martyred by Bejar, not killed by Shalak. May God have mercy on him and all of them. The reason for this is that he traveled from his country. He rode a camel between Al-Shaqiq and Wa'd Al-Jam'. He announced his own death from Shalak, saying: "Woe unto me when I am praised, and woe unto me when the poor ride." The horsemen are carrying the banners, the horses are not seen from Their multitude, carrying the takbir with good breaths. I am a son, and the outgoing and incoming, the women and the men are carrying With them the takbir for their sustenance. He entered upon King Sulaiman, son of Dukin, and said to him: "You have fallen into your poetry." The Qalani said to him: "The devil is sitting on your head, telling you this." He said: "Kill him." His uncles said to him: "Do not kill The son of our Sheikh, a drowned, drunk, and arrogant son. His blood will ruin us." He complained to the scholar Muhammad, son of Manu, and he said: "I am."