ABSTRACT
Well it were if from the heavens tears of blood on earth should flow For the Ruler of the Faithful, al-Musta’sim, brought so low. If, Mohamed, at the Judgment from the dust thy head thou’lt raise, Raise it now, behold the Judgment fallen on thy folk below! Waves of blood the dainty thresholds of the Palace-beauties whelm; While from out my heart the life-blood dyes my sleeve with hues of woe. Fear vicissitudes of Fortune; fear the Sphere’s revolving change; Who could dream that such a splendour such a fate should overthrow? Raise your eyes, O ye who once upon that Holy House did gaze, Watching Khans and Roman Caesars cringing to its portals go. Now upon that self-same threshold where the Kings their foreheads laid, From the children of the Prophet’s Uncle streams of blood do flow! Threnody by sadi.
