Then everything calmed down; totally frightened
The crowd of the camels gazed
On corpses of the riders; in a silence
Their bells were ringing deafly;was ransacked
The pompous caravan; only a bird
In night was circling high in sky
Above the Cristian's bodies died!
No any peaceful tomb under the stones
Will wait them in the monastery, where
The ashes of the fathers lie, and no
No any sisters, mothers, all in veils
Will mourn, and cry, and supplicate
On their graves, being far placed!
There the zealous hand will put the cross
On the roadside, above the rock,
For the continuous memory; the ivy long
Will twine around it in spring
With its green net, growing such thick;
And the pedestrian will turn
From his hard way, being strongly tired,
For rest under its shade desired.