In Praise of Abish, Daughter of Sa'd

The heavens themselves have no such grandeur, and the shining of sun and moon is nowhere so bright. If the morning breeze brushes past the dust of your feet, no wonder its hem comes back perfumed with musk. Among all the pearls of your royal crown, not one has a match even in the cluster of the Pleiades. May this dynasty endure in its rule, so that as long as it stands, the faith remains unbroken. Whoever turns his head away from wisdom, there is no one more wretched or forlorn than he. The enemy who plants an elephant's foot of pressure on your heart, strike him down so his pawn can never rise to queen. Where in the whole world is there such a sovereign? And if there were, none would be so sweet. For God's sake, let your enemy die in some place where no friend stands at his bedside.