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    They are left with the desperate foods of the famished—
        plucking mallow from the bushes by the salt marshes,
        and making the ashy broom tree root their staple.
    The people from the town chase each one out of his neighborhood;
        they howl at all of them as if they were common thieves,
    And push them out to live in the deep valleys of the wadis—
        those desert streams that come and go—
    So these outcasts seek shelter in the overhangs and crumbling caves
        that line the banks of no-man’s-land.

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