كَأَنِّي غَدَاةَ الْبَيْنِ يَوْمَ تَحَمَّلُوا
لَدَى سَمُرَاتِ الْحَيِّ نَاقِفُ حَنْظَلِ
It was as though, on the morning of separation when they loaded up and departed, I stood near the tribe's samur trees like someone breaking open bitter colocynth fruit.
The first three verses focus on traces visible in the present landscape. Ghadāt al-bayn, “the morning of parting,” now carries the memory back to the moment the caravan left.
Samurāt al-ḥayy refers to samur trees by the tribe's campsite. The poet's anguish beneath them is made tangible through the unusual comparison that follows.