Page:The Luzumiyat of Abu'l-Ala.djvu/69



I muse, but in my musings I recall The days of my iniquity; we're all—
 * An arrow shot across the wilderness,

Somewhither, in the wilderness must fall.

I laugh, but in my laughter-cup I pour The tears of scorn and melancholy sore;
 * I who am shattered by the hand of Doubt,

Like glass to be remoulded nevermore.