Splendid in jewelled palanquin
She cleft Iran from sea to sea,
Bound for the Persian Gulf of Pearls,
Where demons sail for drifting isles
With bodyguards of dancing girls
And four tamed winds for music, smiles
For passports. Thus the caravan,
Singing from chief to charvadar,
Reached the great gate of screened Tehran.
The burrows of the dim bazaar