FROM THE ISKENDER-NĀMA
Once unto his Vezīr quoth the crownèd King:
“Thou, who in my world-realm knowest everything!
With my sword I’ve conquered many and many a shore;
Still I sigh right sorely: ‘Ah! to conquer more!’
Great desire is with me realms to overthrow;
Through this cause I comfort ne’er a moment know.
Is there yet a country whither we may wend,
Where as yet our mighty sway doth not extend,
That we may it conquer, conquer it outright?
Ours shall be the whole earth—ours it shall be quite.”
Then, when heard the Vezīr what the King did say,
Quoth he: “Realm-o’erthrowing Monarch, live for aye!
May the Mighty Ruler set thy crown on high,
That thy throne may ever all assaults defy!
May thy life’s rose-garden never fade away!
May thy glory’s orchard never see decay!
Thou’st the Peopled Quarter ta’en from end to end;
All of its inhabitants slaves before thee bend.
There’s on earth no city, neither any land,
That is not, O Monarch, under thy command.
In the Peopled Quarter Seven Climes are known,
And o’er all of these thy sway extends alone!”
Ahmedī.