Regardless of the cries of priests and sages
I strove to give my bleeding soul her wages;
And each embrace or memory of one
Is worth to me the treasures of the ages,
Is worth to me the treasures of the ages.
Each shadow of a kiss or fond embrace
Down in the depth of solitude I trace;
And in the corners of my darkest den
The fallen gods of pleasure find a place.
The fallen gods of pleasure find a place.
And though knee-deep I find myself in hell,
And though the flames around my cheeks should swell,
I shall not loose my grip on Allah's throne,
I shall not fall alone, I know full well.
I shall not fall alone, I know full well.
From Myrtle and Myrrh (The Gorham Press, 1905) by Ameen Rihani. This poem is in the public domain.