Note 127
The Tale of the Ensorcelled Prince.
"The dying Badawi to his tribe" (and lover) appears to me highly pathetic. The wild people love to be buried upon hill slopes whence they can look down upon the camp; and they still call out the names of kinsmen and friends as they pass by the grave-yards. A similar piece occurs in Wetzstein (p. 27, "Reisebericht ueber Hauran," etc.):—
O bear with you my bones where the camel bears his load And bury me before you, if buried I must be; And let me not be burled 'neath the burden of the vine But high upon the hill whence your sight I ever see! As you pass along my grave cry aloud and name your names The crying of your names shall revive the bones of me: I have fasted through my life with my friends, and in my death, I will feast when we meet, on that day of joy and glee.
For your love my patience fails and albeit you forget * I may not, nor to other love my heart can make reply: Bear my body, bear my soul wheresoever you may fare * And where you pitch the camp let my body buried lie: Cry my name above my grave, and an answer shall return * The moaning of my bones responsive to your cry.[FN#127]
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