Allah and Shitan have gone to bed,
The prophets and saints are lapped in lead,
The shrines are shattered and no men pray,
The law is broken and none obey.
The roses of youth are no longer red,
Bitter life’s wine is, bitter its bread,
The lips of the poets are stopped with clay,
And beauty fades into dull decay.
Then I turned me to Alkoran and read,
And Mohammed whispered, ‘Hold up thy head.