Classic Poem

There lies an exile in a stranger's land,
And in another land an empty throne
Laments, and certain spears that rusted stand
Mourn for the Sheikh Mu'tamid, overthrown.

Zahi, the clouds that linger in the skies
With dew of tears for thy forsaken grass,
Grieve for the time when fate was otherwise,
And murmur to the winds a soft " Alas! "

O Time, thou cheat and cozener of men,
I hate thee, Time, that with such sorry wit
Exalts our greatness to the stars, and then
Into the dust of Nothing tosses it.

Alas, how fares my pleasure-house to-night?
Sway Zahi's waters to the warm night-breeze?
And do the soft doves with their old delight
Murmur dear mysteries in the olive-trees?

I know not. But I know that, cold, austere,
And glittering keenly on a rain-washed sky,
Stand the great Pleiades and cry: " O hear,
Listen, ye kings, to us that prophesy!

" There went a ruler from this pleasant spot,
Even Mu'tamid, mighty in his day;
And peradventure he returneth not,
But that which Allah wills shall none gainsay. "

Therefore to Allah shall my heart complain,
And He will surely grant me, being most wise,
My garden and my singing-girls again,
If I resign my place in Paradise.