The path glows fiery-hot; in the early hours of day
Melek was already awake for his journey;
Now in midday's heat, pursued by his thirst,
he walks on through the hot sand.

The hyena howls, the leopard roars,
The scorching sand swirls and occludes all sight: 
"And even if I could stand it longer,
You faithful horse will not bear much more!"

And higher the whirlwind churns up the dust,
No refreshing drink, no cool shadow.
He looks up to the sky, his eyes imploring,
The dry lips form a prayer:

"You, who fill 
the grass with dew,
who you have put the oasis here 
in the scorching sea of glaring sand,
Give me refreshment!  
Waker of the day and keeper of the nights,
Do not let me die here 
in the scorching sand, o master of life!

"Listen!  Does the air not fill 
wandering Kata's band?
Is the spring still far, 
that thirsting he contrarily pulls to?

"Come on!  with the birds swarm, 
fly, my steed! There 
the bubbling spring 
will refresh us!"