Two healths, one health,
    Four healths more: 
    Four sacks of sesame seed,
    Scattered on the floor;
    Pick and count them one by one. 
    Reckon up their number;
    For every seed wish Hassan’s health. 
    Sweetly may he slumber!

The Druze women delight in nothing so much as to have their sons ride fine horses: 

    My Yusef, my cup of sherbet sweet,
    My broadcloth red hung over the street,
    When you ride the blood mare with sword and pistol,
    Your saddle is gold and your stirrups crystal.

Katrina says that this little song is the morning salutation to baby boys: 

      Good morning now to you, Little boy! 
      Your face is like the dew, Little boy! 
    There never was a child, so merry and so mild,
      So good morning once again, Little boy!

This song is sung by the Druze women to their babes: 

    O Sparrow of Paradise,
    Hush him to sleep? 
    Your feathers are “henna.” 
    Watch him and keep! 
    Bring sleep soft and sweet
    Upon your white wings! 
    For Hassan the pet
    And his mother who sings!

The apples of Damascus are noted throughout Syria, though we should regard them as very poor fruit: 

    What’s he like?  If any ask us,
    Flowers and apples of Damascus;
    Apples fragrant on the tray,
    Roses sweet with scent of May.

Laia says that the next one is sung by the Druze women to their baby boys: 

        I love you, I prize you, and for you I wish,
        A hundred oak trees in the valley;
        A hundred blood mares all tied in the court,
        And ready for foray or sally. 
    Mount your horse, fly away, with your scarf flowing free,
    The chiefs of the tribe will assemble;
    Damascus, Aleppo, and Ghutah beside,
    At the sound of your coming will tremble.

Nejmeh says that the Bedawin women who come to Safita, her native place, often sing the following song: 

    Come little Bedawy, sit on my lap,
    Pretty pearls shine in your little white cap,
    Rings are in your ears,
    Rings are in your nose,
    Rings upon your fingers,
    And “henna” on your toes.

They use the “henna” to dye their hands, feet and finger nails, when a wedding or festive occasion occurs in the family.

Katrina recalls another little song which she used to sing to Harry: 

    Welcome now, my baby dear,
    Whence did you come? 
    Your voice is sweet,
    What little feet! 
    Make yourself at home!

Nideh, the Druze girl down stairs is ready with another song.  She is rocking little Sheikh Fereed in his cradle, and says: 

    In your cradle sleep my boy,
    Rest from all your labor;
    May El Hakim, heaven’s God,
    Ever be your neighbor!