A recreant captain, a battle-line thrown back, the arrow hanging target-less and slack!

Nowhere near you that shell which holds life’s pearl; I have dragged the waves and searched the ocean’s track.

Plunge in your self, on idols dote no more, pour our no more heart’s blood for paint to deck their shrines.

I unveil the courts of Love and Death: Death – life dishonoured; Love – death for honour’s sake.

I gleaned in Rumi’s company: one bold heart is worth of learned heads the whole tame pack.

Once more that voice from Sinai’s tree would cry fear not! If some new Moses led the attack.

No glitter of Western science could dazzle my eyes: The dust of Medina stains, like collyrium, black.