Page:The Luzumiyat of Abu'l-Ala.djvu/88



A prince of souls, 'tis sung in ancient lay, One morning sought a vesture of the clay;
 * He came into the Pottery, the fool—

The lucky fool was warned to stay away.

But I was not. Oh! that the Fates decree That I now cast aside this clay of me;
 * My soul and body wedded for a while

Are sick and would that separation be.