Six pyramids, Three big and three small, Vast azure sky, Some cotton clouds;
The explorer, Mounted on a brown saddle, On a camel has reigns in his hands,
Sun is behind his back and his shadow ahead, No other persons are in sight,
It has been long since he left his village, On this arduous journey, In pursuit of something he valued, With a white turban on his head, Now all he meets on his way, Are sandy storms and scorching heat, and shadows;
There are mirages but no water, He stopped by the ancient monuments to appreciate the symmetry,
He has to soon lit the fire up and set his camp as night is approaching and it would quickly get too cold.