C.D. Warner, et al., comp.
The Library of the World’s Best Literature. An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.

Author Unknown

(Nile Song—Arabic)

Translation in Dublin University Magazine

THE MOTHER

MY daughter, ’tis time that thou wert wed:

Ten summers already are over thy head;

I must find you a husband, if under the sun

The conscript-catcher has left us one.

THE DAUGHTER

Dear mother, one husband will never do:

I have so much love that I must have two;

And I’ll find for each, as you shall see,

More love than both can bring to me.

One husband shall carry a lance so bright;

He shall roam the desert for spoil by night;

And when morning shines on the tall palm-tree,

He shall find sweet welcome home with me.

The other a sailor bold shall be:

He shall fish all day in the deep blue sea;

And when evening brings his hour of rest,

He shall find repose on this faithful breast.

MOTHER

There’s no chance, my child, of a double match,

For men are scarce and hard to catch;

So I fear you must make one husband do,

And try to love him as well as two.