In honor of Muharram, we present this work by one of Islam’s great medieval poets.
Look at the beautiful sun:
as it rises, it shows one golden eyebrow,
plays miser with the other one,
but we know that soon
it will spread out a radiant veil
A marvelous mirror that appears in the East
only to hide again at dusk.
The sky is saddened
when the sun leaves
and puts on mourning robes.
I believe that falling stars
are nothing more
than sky’s gem-hard tears.