他躺在未收割的稻谷旁，手里拿着镰刀;他赤裸着胸膛，乱蓬蓬的头发埋在沙子里。又一次，在朦胧的睡眠中，他看见了自己的故乡。辽阔的尼日尔河从他梦中的风景中流过;在平原上的棕榈树下，他再次成为了国王;听到叮当作响的商队从山路上走下来。他再次看到他的黑眼睛的王后站在她的孩子们中间;他们搂着他的脖子，亲吻他的脸颊，拉着他的手!——一滴眼泪从沉睡者的眼皮里流出，落在沙滩上。然后，他以极快的速度沿着尼日尔的河岸骑行;他的缰绳是金链，伴随着武侠的铿锵声，每一次跳跃，他都能感觉到他的钢鞘撞击着他的骏马的侧面。 Before him, like a blood-red flag, The bright flamingoes flew; >From morn till night he followed their flight, O'er plains where the tamarind grew, Till he saw the roofs of Caffre huts, And the ocean rose to view. At night he heard the lion roar, And the hyena scream, And the river-horse, as he crushed the reeds Beside some hidden stream; And it passed, like a glorious roll of drums, Through the triumph of his dream. The forests, with their myriad tongues, Shouted of liberty; And the Blast of the Desert cried aloud, With a voice so wild and free, That he started in his sleep and smiled At their tempestuous glee. He did not feel the driver's whip, Nor the burning heat of day; For Death had illumined the Land of Sleep, And his lifeless body lay A worn-out fetter, that the soul Had broken and thrown away!