I think of Ibn Zahayr who shed the coat
Of disbelief for the holy mantle,
Whose verse was destined to be immortal
And he forever laurelled for what he wrote.
And al-Busiri strung his orbs of light
That breathed life into the lame and dead,
For this task he was raised and his fame spread;
He too won the cloak when asked to recite.
Before him Ibn Mashish from ʿAlam’s height
With the fire given him from Paradise
In turn set the Seven Heavens ablaze:
The Gate of Truth to each unlocked by praise
And to that same mantle I plead a right
That I recite before my master’s eyes.

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