Jaber, and the improvisatore poet, Ebn Alramacram, resolved to
divert himself at the expense of his companions. He therefore
ordered the poet to give a specimen of his talents, which at the
same time should convey a satire upon the three courtiers, and a
compliment to himself. Ebn Alramacram took his subject from the
stormy appearance of the night, and immediately produced these
verses.


ON THE DEATH OF A SON[28]

Tyrant of man! Imperious Fate!
I bow before thy dread decree,
Nor hope in this uncertain state
To find a seat secure from thee.

Life is a dark, tumultuous stream,
With many a care and sorrow foul,
Yet thoughtless mortals vainly deem
That it can yield a limpid bowl.

Think not that stream will backward flow,
Or cease its destin'd course to keep;
As soon the blazing spark shall glow
Beneath the surface of the deep.

Believe not Fate at thy command
Will grant a meed she never gave;
As soon the airy tower shall stand,
That's built upon a passing wave.