1. The greedy one finds in his quest,
While time makes sport of him,

2. He forgets what has passed of his life,
And he is made content by what has newly occurred,

3. For time is but wisps of cloud
Scudding across the horizon.

4. I blame Xapur and Ardashir,
Though they knew he would break faith.

5. No follower escaped being pursued,
Not even Munzir or Al-Harith.

6. And the towers of Palmyra and its citadels,
None equaled their beauty.

7. Death erased their clay
And magic in the land spews forth.

8. They did not last long before
Their remains settled into the ground.

9. Thus their corpses are but relics
Lamented by the grieving mourner.

10. The owls nest in them and the bats,
While all who dwell there violate them.

11. I see wealth divided among heirs,
But glory has no heir.

12. What has Rustum composed,
Though they claimed him a searcher,

13. Who saw the being of the world transient
And that the entity of life remains?

14. That is but the course of a cloud
Followed by the creeping mist.

15. It is the decree of the Compassionate, the All-Knowing,
To whom the desperate turn for help.