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This song of Ould-es-Serge we have sung In Ayd-el-Rebye, in the singing month, At Sydy-Khaled-ben Sinan. A man, Mahomet ben Guytoun, this song has sung Of her you'll never see again alive. My heart lies there in slim Hyzyya's tomb. Come, see what's happened in this evil year. The earthquake tumbled all the houses down, Locusts and crickets have left naught behind.
She died the death of martyrs, my sweet love, My fair'st one, with Koheul-tinted lids! They took her to a country that is called Sydy Kaled, and buried her at night, My tattooed beauty. And her lovely eyes, Like a gazelle's, have never left my sight. O sexton, care now for my sweet gazelle, And let no stones fall on Hyzyya's grave.
To these would I compare the lovely queen Of all this age, the daughter of Ahmed, Descendant of a race illustrious, The daughter of Donaonda. Such is The will of God, all-powerful Lord of men. The Lord hath shown his will and borne away Hyzyya. Grant me patience, O my Lord! My heart dies of its hurt. Hyzyya's love Did tear it from me when she left the earth.
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