For the corniced palace at Bagdhad!
(not the corniced palace in Sindad al-Hira)
Rising over gardens below like a crown,
a virgin unveiled in the most perfumed chamber.
The wind plays in the branches and they bend,
lovers at last coming together,
Her neck necklaced by the river Tigris,
her lord our master our Imam al-Hadi,
Nasir, Mansur, best of caliphs,
who never set out on horseback to war.
God bless him long as a dove
on a swaying bough coos,
Long as smiles flash forth lighting
(my eyes pouring down like clouds in answer)
From a bride like the sun when the mist parts
revealing herself in luminous splendor.