I was prompted by my gaze by Huaka – the poet Buhtari

I was quick to look at Hawaka
as if my eyes didn’t want nothing but you
My Messenger came to me shining the light of his face
I had no such thing before
he came to you ugly and dressed him
The remains of camels from you when Ataka
It is enough for me to see
My Messenger that you have spoken to him and he has seen you