Litany of the damned

Itching palms, in the old temple of Earth, have the kneelers, Men who remember their God only when idols are deaf.

Vain are the Hindu’s rites and vain the Mohammedan’s worship; Wailing and gnashing of teeth still are the lot of the poor

None of earth’s cities in truth is more than a populous desert, High though their buildings soar, kissing the sky with their roofs.

Axe in hand Farhad toils on;—Fate’s irony witness! Slek and content is Parvez, parching with drought in Farhad.

All that there is in that world its rulers' brains have engendered: Science and learning are theirs, commerce and practice of State;

Free of enslavement, Allah be thanked, to the huckster of Europe— Free is this country of ours, scorched in the furnace of Hell.