A Fine War Horse _Sayyid Mohamed Abdalle Hassan.

When men are summoned from afar to fight,
To march there would be wary work indeed,
But walhad spreads his back from me,
As if he were a soft skin bedding-mat.
Does he not act as a good wife does?

The skin flask holding camels’ milk-
Weeto’s milk, which fills one to the full-
The fashoned saddle, the bit, the ornamented straps,
The glinting bridle the tasselled halter,
which he tosses up and down,
the thonged whip, the shield fo wrought rhinocernos hide,
The long speak chosen from stock of spears,
All these he carries on his back.

He moves with a swinging gait,
The gait of a bull elephant when angered.
Do not expect sedatenesss from him-
Is he not an afreet, an out and out demon?

If I mount him at light of dawn
And under the hot sun reide on throughout the day,
He is a cooling wind in himself.
Is he not the light breeze in the evening?

But if we set out on a long nights’ journey
He protects me from the cold damp air.
Is he not a mantle that is spread around me?

When the camels have gone forth to graze,
And a attack is made when they stop to feed,
Is he not like javelin beind hurled,
As he bounds out from among a hundered Companions?

Where there is fighting and the taking of booty
And when men take aim and fire off their bullets,
He can dodge them-is he not an agent of God?

He brings destruction to great men,
He cuts off the life of the brave,
He recovers stock that was captured,
Is he not hot death itself?